


Moira's Destiny

by Natalie L (nat1228)



Series: Moira Series [4]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, Drama, M/M, Series, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat1228/pseuds/Natalie%20L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after the events in "Moira's Curse," Jim and Blair take on the system, determined to change the very foundations of the sentinel-guide relationship. Meanwhile, ghosts of past deeds arise to haunt them and threaten Jim's sanity. Can Blair find him in time to salvage the sentinel's mind?<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Moira's Destiny

## Moira's Destiny

#### by Natalie L

Author's website: <http://www.squidge.org.~nat1228/jagjungle_1024.htm>  
Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No profit is being made from the posting of this story.  
  
Many thanks to B, Lyn, and Mary for their fabulous help, and to the gals at DE Press for their encouragement and support.  
  
This is an AU where sentinels and guides are known to exist. I spoke with Susan Foster (author of the popular "GDP" series) before writing the first story in this series [Moira's Blessing], as I knew that some of the conventions and concepts I wanted to use were very similar to themes she has created for her series. She kindly consented to let me use what I needed to tell this story. While there may be some similarities, this story is *not* a spin-off of the GDP universe, but is an AU of my own creation. This story is slash.  
  
This story is a sequel to: http://Moira's Curse

* * *

His head throbbed in migraine proportions as he slowly opened his eyes to blackness. He fought through the headache to dial up sight, but to no avail. Nothing but darkness greeted his efforts. The cold of the bare concrete floor seeped through his skin, chilling his naked body. He rolled over onto his knees and braced himself against the wall as he cautiously stood up. He leaned heavily against the support, waiting until he was certain he could move without falling. 

He began to slowly map out his prison. Ten feet long and eight feet wide, the room consisted of a concrete floor and three concrete walls, the fourth wall being constructed of solid steel bars - a cage. There was nothing inside, except for him. Two vents near the ceiling let in fresh air, but were far too small to be any hope of escape. In the floor was a small drain. 

He shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. There was nowhere to sit, nowhere to lie, nowhere to stand that wasn't cold, artificial stone. He tried calling out, but his voice sounded hollow - echoing in the empty chamber. He quieted and dialed up hearing, hoping to overhear a conversation, a footstep, the whir of a fan, but nothing came to his ears. Where was he? And more importantly, where was his guide? Where was Blair? Was he safe, or was he also trapped in a dark, silent prison? 

_Four-and-a-half weeks earlier:_

Jim stood beside the exam table where Blair sat, waiting for the doctor to finish treating the bullet wound in his right calf. The projectile had cleanly pierced the muscle, leaving the guide with a minor, but painful, injury. 

"Change the bandages twice daily and clean the wounds with a mild antiseptic," the doctor ordered. "You may want to use a crutch for the first week or two, until the leg is stronger." 

"Thanks, Doctor Kennedy," said Blair, smiling at the elderly physician. "I'll be careful." As he slipped off the table, Jim grabbed his arm, supporting him and helping him walk out of the clinic. 

Once they were seated in the truck, Jim turned to his partner. "That settles it." 

"Settles what?" Blair asked, turning a speculative glance toward Jim. 

"That's the last time you're getting hurt on my account. I'm turning in my resignation." 

It took Blair a minute to recover from his shock. "You can't do that!" he all but shouted. "Jim, listen to me, man. Your life is wrapped up with the PD. Since we started working together, nobody's had a better arrest record than you. You can't give up now." 

"I'm not giving up," Jim argued. "I'm just shifting my focus. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I've decided that it's time to put my plan into motion." 

"What sort of plan are we talking about?" Blair asked suspiciously. 

"Things that have been a long time coming," Jim answered cryptically. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, headed back toward home. 

Blair let the subject drop. He waited patiently in the truck as Jim stopped in at a local pharmacy to rent a pair of crutches for his use, and kept his mouth shut until they were back in the privacy of their home. 

Settled on the couch, with the crutches at his side, Blair looked up at his partner, his lover. "This is a big step, leaving the PD," he began. "Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" 

"It's what I have to do," Jim replied, "to keep you safe." 

Blair stood up indignantly, and then immediately sat back down as a spear of pain lanced through his leg. "Ow! Dammit!" he swore softly. "Jim, you don't have to keep me safe. Remember, I'm a free man, I make my own decisions, and I decided to stay at your side. I know the job is dangerous; it's also important." 

"So are you," Jim said, coming to sit next to his bondmate. "This is the last time you get hurt because of my job." 

"But what are you going to do if you're not a detective?" Blair stared at the stubborn sentinel. "I have a life at the University. All I have to do is give the word, and I'll have a full-time, tenured position there. But you... your life is wrapped up in putting the bad guys behind bars." 

Jim reached out to stroke the satin curls of his guide's hair. "You've come a long way in the past year," he said softly. "Do you realize that nobody even thinks of you as a guide anymore? They see you as my partner, my companion, as a person in your own right. I think it's about time that all empaths are treated with the same respect; given a choice." 

Blair's face softened and he smiled. "It's been quite a ride from that first day the Wardens snatched me off the steps of Hargrove Hall to here," he admitted. "At the time, I was confused and angry, pissed as hell that someone could strip me of my life and dignity without even an acknowledgment of my rights. But you gave it all back, and now I wouldn't trade what we have together for any amount of fame or fortune." 

"But the other empaths conscripted into the guide service don't have the same privileges," Jim reminded him. "Things are changing, but not fast enough to suit my taste." A smile creased the edges of his mouth. "Did you notice that Patterson down in Vice has been dressing his guide and has let him off the leash?" 

Blair's grin matched that of his lover's. "Yeah, the news gets around. Looks like you've had an influence on the sentinels down at the station." 

"But it's not enough. I'd like to see more," said Jim. "It was bad enough before my senses kicked in and I needed a guide myself. I always thought we lived in a civilized country, in a place where things like the submission of an entire class of people into virtual slavery didn't exist; but I was wrong." 

"You never treated me that way," Blair responded softly. "You always thought of me as your partner, your equal." 

"You have a short memory, Darwin," Jim replied bitterly. "I brought you home and clothed you, but after our two week initial bonding period, I stripped you naked and leashed you to take you in to work that first day." 

"We agreed on that together," Blair reminded him. "I won't say it was a comfortable experience for me, but I understood the need." 

"I made you submit to a humiliating physical exam and held you still while the doctor branded your shoulder." Jim let his hand slip inside the collar of Blair's shirt to run his fingers over the raised scar of the brand. 

Blair shuddered at the memory. As the red-hot metal had seared his flesh with the Cascade PD logo and Jim's badge number, he had lost control of his bladder, urinating on the floor. A hot flush colored his neck and face. "I-I could have refused," he said softly. 

"No, Babe, you couldn't have." Jim's voice was just above a whisper. "That's why I have to change things - with your help." 

"A-All right," agreed Blair. "But can it wait just a little longer?" He scooted closer until their legs touched, and as he leaned forward to capture his sentinel's mouth, Jim felt the hard column of Blair's erection pressing into his thigh. "Right now, I need you." 

*my guide / my sentinel; my body yearns for you / your body embraces mine / you fill me, complete me, make me whole; sentinel, claim your guide! / MINE* 

As he slowly withdrew his mind from that of his lover, Blair became aware of their total state of disarray. Sprawled on the couch, shirts still intact, but with pants around their knees, the sentinel and guide lay joined. Jim was stroking his hair, whispering sweet words of love into his ear as he continued to fill Blair with his softening cock. The sticky residue of Blair's completion spread between them. 

"I love you, my guide." Jim peppered Blair's face with light kisses as he continued to stroke the silken curls. 

"God, Jim..." Blair's voice trailed off as his strength continued to fade. "D-Do you think we could continue this upstairs?" 

In answer, the sentinel carefully withdrew from his guide's body and stood, stepping out of the jeans that had pooled at his feet. Stooping, he scooped Blair into his arms and headed for the stairs. 

"Hey!" Blair protested, struggling briefly against the undignified hold. As Jim's arms simply tightened around him, Blair gave in, wrapping his own arms around his lover's neck and relaxing into the security of the firm embrace. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he could navigate the stairs yet, given the fresh bullet wound in his leg. 

Jim approached the bed and lay his bondmate down. Gently, he removed the jeans and boxers, taking special care of the injured calf. He then began to unbutton the shirt that covered the delightfully furred chest of his lover. "You're so beautiful. I can't believe my luck the day I found you." Jim lowered his head to suckle an erect teat, taking in the warm scent of his lover and the rush of pheromones as Blair's renewed arousal began to overtake his body. 

Stripping quickly, Jim joined his bondmate in their bed, a rumble akin to the purr of a large cat issuing from his throat. He bent to claim his guide; licking, tasting, smelling, marking the pale skin with his own scent. Beneath him, Blair moaned his approval of the sensual mapping of his body, writhing to find a comfortable position below his lover. "I was the fortunate one," Blair whispered between gasps of delight as Jim's tongue roamed his body. "The goddess of Fate smiled on me that day. I knew you were my mate the moment you touched me; your mind belonged to me, we were one soul." 

" _Are_ one soul," Jim corrected, latching onto the delectable lips, ravishing his lover with a kiss. 

Blair rolled them onto their sides to take some of the pressure from his injured leg and reached a hand down between their bodies to stroke the growing erection of his bondmate. Jim moaned and broke the kiss, reaching down to capture the questing hand and bring it to his lips. Stretching Blair's arm up over his head, Jim began to work his way down the exposed chest, giving brief attention to each erect nipple before sliding lower, licking a path down the quivering flesh. His lover was vibrating with tension by the time Jim reached his goal, smothering the purple head of the straining cock with wet lips. 

"Oh God, Jim!" shouted Blair, arching his hips upward. "Claim me; claim your guide!" 

Jim opened his throat to take in the length of his lover, rising and falling on the thick shaft with a gentle suction; tasting the nectar of his guide's body. As his climax neared, Blair began to thrust his hips, gurgling his pleas for Jim to claim him. Jim lightly scraped his teeth over the sensitive column of flesh, sending a spasm through his lover's body before he finally clasped his lips around the swollen head and began to suck. 

Blair whimpered and cried, trying to thrust, but was held firmly by his sentinel's strong hands. His body trembled with pent up arousal, begging to be released. A blinding wave of sensation washed over him as the surge of his orgasm swept through him. His cries of release echoed around the loft as he pumped his seed down his mate's throat. Temporarily blind and deaf in the wake of his climax, Blair drank in the gentle touch of his lover. 

*mine forever, sentinel / my soulmate; my guide* 

Jim continued to stroke Blair's face and hair, staring into the unseeing eyes until his lover slowly began to come back to him. "Jim?" The voice was soft and hoarse. 

"I'm here, Sweetheart," said Jim, leaning in to press a brief kiss against the parted lips. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine; more than fine." A gentle smile curved the full lips and Blair let his eyes drift closed. "Now, claim my body as you claimed my mind." 

There was a brief shuffle as Jim moved behind his lover, not wishing to inflict more pain by making Blair roll over and rest his weight on his bad leg. Lubing his cock, Jim entered his lover's body with a smooth thrust. There was a grunt of approval from his replete mate as the sentinel began to move with gentle strokes, the wet slurp of intercourse blending with the sound of labored breathing. 

*I love you, my sentinel / and I love you, my guide; no matter where the future leads us, we will always be together / promise me? because I could not bear to live without you / in all things we act as one, we move as one, we think as one; I couldn't bear my life without you, either, my guide / then promise me; seal it with your love / I vow with the essence of my life* 

A final thrust buried Jim's cock to the hilt in the snug warmth of his lover's body. Spasms wracked him as he shot spurt after spurt of hot come into the tight channel, sealing the covenant with his guide. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Come on, Jim, we're going to be late!" 

Jim came trotting down the stairs, straightening his bow tie. "Explain to me again why we have to go out?" Rounding the bottom stair, he popped a quick kiss on his lover's lips. "I was rather hoping we could stay in and get cozy." 

"Are you kidding? You already sucked my brains out through my cock once today. I don't think I could handle any more of that right now," Blair answered, a cocky grin lighting his face. "Besides, we promised Simon we'd be there." 

" _You_ promised Simon we'd be there," Jim corrected. "I was hoping to wiggle my way out of it this year." 

"Simon really wanted us there," Blair pointed out. "We don't have to stay; we can just make an appearance and leave. The new mayor is going to be there." Jim perked up at that news bite. "Yeah," Blair continued, becoming more animated as he saw Jim's interest. "I hear she's really progressive. She'd probably like your ideas on reforming the sentinel-guide relationship. Maybe you could get a chance to talk with her." 

"But why the penguin suits?" Jim tugged at his collar again. 

"Because it's a formal gala," Blair explained as patiently as he could. "Simon said black tie." He shrugged. "We really ought to get going." 

"Are you going to be all right?" Jim eyed the crutch under Blair's right arm. "Don't you need both of those?" 

"I can get around with just the one," said Blair, limping toward the front door. "I'm fine. Come on." 

~oO0Oo~ 

They walked into the ballroom and scanned the crowd. Jim's attention was taken by Blair's insistent tugging on his sleeve. "What is it, Chief?" 

"Over there," said Blair, pointing to the center of the crowd. "Come with me." He led the way through the milling throng of people and approached a dark-haired young man about his own age. "Trevor! God, man, it's good to see you! What are you doing here?" 

"I might ask the same thing," Trevor replied, eyeing Jim from head to toe. 

"This is my sentinel, Jim Ellison," Blair said, stepping in closer to Jim. "He's a detective with the Major Crime Unit. Jim, this is a good friend of mine, Trevor Masters. I met him at the Guide Training Facility." 

Jim reached out his hand to the young man. "Nice to meet you," he said politely. He watched as a beautiful middle-aged woman came to stand by Trevor's side. 

"This is my... boss, Meredith Whitaker," said Trevor. "Madam Mayor," he said with a polite nod to the woman, "I'd like for you to meet Sentinel Detective Jim Ellison and his guide, Dr. Blair Sandburg. Blair and I were good friends at the Facility," he added. 

The mayor held out her hand first to Jim, and then to Blair. "You may call me Merri. It's very nice to meet you, Detective Ellison, Dr. Sandburg." 

"Blair," the anthropologist quickly corrected. "It's great to meet you, too. I didn't know you were a sentinel." All the color in the mayor's face drained away. "What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?" Blair asked, suddenly contrite. 

"It's not your fault," Trevor quickly replied. "It's just that nobody knows Merri is a sentinel, and she doesn't want it becoming general knowledge." He turned to the mayor, laying a hand on her arm. "It's all right. Blair is an empath, too. You can trust him; he won't say anything." 

"I-I've just never met another guide who was allowed to dress and speak, and to walk beside his sentinel like an equal," the mayor explained. "You're the first person, besides Trevor, who was able to tell that I was a sentinel." 

"What's the matter? Why don't you want anyone to know?" Blair asked, genuinely surprised to find a sentinel who didn't want to be acknowledged. 

"It's a long story," the mayor said, "and one I don't really want to go into here. It's vitally important to me that my secret is kept. Could I ask you both to come talk with me at my office, say, tomorrow?" She turned to Trevor. 

The aide thought a moment before replying. "You don't have any appointments until 9:30, Madam Mayor." 

"How about first thing in the morning, then?" Merri asked. "Say around 8:00?" 

"Thank you, Mayor Whitaker," Jim said, reaching out his hand to shake hers as a parting gesture. "We'll be there. I have some ideas I'd like to run past you as well, if there's time." 

"The office officially opens at eight o'clock," the mayor said, "but I'm routinely there by 7:30. Come by early, if you like." 

"We'll do that, thank you, Madam Mayor." Blair turned to his old acquaintance. "Good to see you again, Trevor. We'll have to get together sometime." 

"Yeah, Blair. Great seeing you again, too!" Trevor slapped Blair's shoulder and smiled broadly as he turned to accompany the mayor on her rounds of greeting the crowd. 

"Well...?" Blair turned to Jim, smiling broadly. "What do you think?" 

"I think we've got a better chance of getting her to listen than I thought we might," answered Jim. 

"Oh, hey, Jim, look! It's Simon! I see he finally got the guts to ask out that pretty nurse." Blair was grinning as he grabbed Jim's arm and started to pull him across the room. 

"What was her name again?" Jim asked as they neared the couple. 

Blair shot his partner a disgusted look. "Amy," he hissed. "Now, behave yourself!" He turned to the police captain and his date. "Hi, Simon." 

"Oh, good evening, gentlemen," Simon replied, taking in both partners. "It's so good of you to show up." 

"We made a promise," Blair piped up before Jim could say something he'd regret later. 

" _You_ made the promise," said Simon, echoing Jim's earlier complaint. "But I'm glad you managed to get..." he gestured at Jim, "...him here. So, do you happen to remember Amy?" Simon asked, introducing his date. 

"Of course we do!" Blair said enthusiastically, reaching out to clasp the woman's hand. "It's good to see you again." 

"It's very nice to be here," Amy replied. She turned toward a large table weighted down with food. "Have you been to the buffet yet? Simon and I were just about to head over and get something to eat. We'd love it if you joined us." 

"Sounds good to me!" Blair said, following the couple. 

Jim tagged along; catching up to Blair, he wrapped an arm around the younger man's waist. "You're certainly the social butterfly tonight." 

Blair chuckled. "You could try a little harder, you know," he chided. "It's not so bad being here - just look at this spread!" He picked up a plate and followed in line behind Simon, helping himself to salad and a baked chicken breast in lemon sauce with some steamed vegetables on the side. He watched as Jim filled his plate with roast beef and mashed potatoes. "You should have some vegetables with that," Blair suggested, pointing to the colorful variety available on the table. 

"I don't tell you what to eat," Jim grumbled, taking another slice of the beef. They walked over to the table where Simon and his date had just settled, and joined the couple. "So, just _why_ are we here tonight?" he asked his boss. 

The Policeman's Benevolent Association is having a silent auction," Simon explained. "They're raising money to help support the families of officers who lost their lives in the line of duty." 

The Master of Ceremonies stepped up to the podium and spoke into the microphone, interrupting any further conversation. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I trust you've all had a chance to look over the many items donated to our silent auction and make your bids. The winners will be announced later in the evening. 

"At this time, it is my pleasure to introduce the mayor of our fine city, Ms. Meredith Whitaker." 

The mayor stepped up to the microphone and looked out over the sea of faces. "There is a man here tonight that I would like to personally thank for the outstanding service he's given to our community. In the past year, this detective has amassed by far the finest arrest and conviction record of any officer in the city or, for that matter, in the entire state of Washington. It gives me great pleasure to award this year's Officer of the Year award..." 

Jim turned to Blair and whispered, "We could have been home spending time together -" 

"Shhh!" Blair frowned at his mate and gestured toward the speaker. 

"...to Sentinel Detective James Ellison!" the mayor concluded to an enthusiastic round of applause. 

Jim's eyes widened and he looked at Blair as his partner began to urge him up out of his chair. "Go for it, Jim! Go on!" Blair motioned for Jim to get moving. 

Jim turned back to the table before starting his walk to the podium. "I'm going to get you for this," he threatened. "You were in on this, weren't you?" 

Blair gave his partner another push. "Just get going!" Once the sentinel was on his way, Blair turned to Simon and gave the captain a high five. 

"Detective Ellison." The mayor reached down to a shelf behind the podium and pulled out an engraved plaque that she then presented to Jim. "It is my honor to present you with this year's award for Outstanding Officer of the Year." 

Jim accepted the plaque and cleared his throat, stepping up to the microphone amid thunderous applause. "Thank you, Madam Mayor. I'm honored to be selected this year, but I couldn't have done what I did without my guide, Dr. Blair Sandburg, at my side." 

"Absolutely so," the mayor agreed. "Which is why it was unanimously decided to present Dr. Sandburg with an award as well. Blair, would you please join us?" Meredith turned her attention to the table where the guide sat, stunned by the pronouncement. 

Blair rose slowly, gathering his crutch and his courage. He glanced down at Simon who had a smug grin on his face. "Get going, kid. You earned it," the captain said, urging the guide forward. 

Blair joined Jim at the podium, his face a blush of embarrassment. "Did you know about this?" he whispered softly. 

Jim shook his head. "Not a clue, but it serves you right." 

There was a smattering of applause, but also a flurry of hushed murmurs as the mayor began to speak again. "I believe it's time we acknowledge the role that guides play in the success of the sentinels they are partnered with," Meredith said. "Before this past year, Detective Ellison's accomplishments were quite formidable, but after pairing with a talented empath, Dr. Sandburg, his arrest and conviction rate tripled. Therefore, I believe it is only fitting that we also reward the person responsible for that rise." She reached below the podium for a second plaque. "Dr. Sandburg, it is my great pleasure to present you with the first annual Guide of the Year award!" 

Blair was shocked into silence by the presentation. With a Cheshire cat grin, Jim took the podium for a second time. "It would seem that my guide has finally learned that silence is golden," he teased, gaining a round of chuckles from the audience. "I figure that it's only fair if I have to be up here, he should be too. Thank you all, from both of us." Blair nodded his agreement and began to head back to the table where Simon and Amy waited. 

"You set me up," Blair accused the captain as they sat down to their dinners once more. 

Simon chuckled and ducked his head, glancing at Amy and Jim before speaking. "Well, I couldn't have you making excuses to not come, could I?" 

"Congratulations, Blair; you deserve it," Amy said, reaching across the table to cover Blair's hand with her own. "And you, too, Jim. You're a remarkable couple." 

The band started playing, and Simon stood, offering a hand to Amy. "Care to dance?" 

"I'd love to." Amy rose gracefully and floated into Simon's arms as they began to circle the dance the floor. 

"I'd ask you to dance -" Jim began. 

"That's okay," Blair acknowledged, pulling his crutch under his arm as he stood. "Do you think we could say our good-byes and get out of here? I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up my shields. There are a lot of mixed emotions in the room right now." 

Jim rose and came to stand next to his guide, offering support if needed. "I don't suppose some people are too happy about you getting that award," he acknowledged. "But don't worry. We're going to change all that with the help of the mayor." 

_The next morning; Mayor Whitaker's office:_

"Hey, Blair! Good morning, Sentinel," Trevor greeted the mayor's guests as they entered the office. "Merri stepped out for just a minute; she'll be right back. Make yourselves comfortable." 

"So, Trev, tell me," Blair began. "How is it that, well -" He gestured at the clothes the guide was wearing. 

"Pretty much the same reason as you," Trevor explained. "But I'll let Merri tell you the story." 

"Good morning, gentlemen," the mayor greeted, walking into her office and closing the door. "So, we managed to pull off the surprise last night. I could see it in your faces." 

"You certainly shocked me," Blair agreed. "How did you get the committee to agree to giving me an award?" 

"It wasn't easy," the mayor agreed, sitting behind her desk. "That's part of what I want to talk with both of you about, and the reason I need for you to keep my secret." Jim and Blair settled in their seats and gave the mayor their complete attention. "As you may have noticed, there are no sentinels in political office, with the exception of myself." Jim and Blair nodded their agreement. "That's because, as a class, sentinels are still not wholly trusted by those in power. Or perhaps, it's _because_ of our enhanced abilities that the public doesn't want to see us run the government. That and the fact that we're dependent on empaths to stabilize us - a weakness that could be exploited if it were known." 

"So how did you come to get into politics?" Blair asked, curious about the mayor's motives. 

Merri smiled and sat back in her chair, relaxing. "I've always loved politics, even as a child. When my sentinel abilities manifested, I suppressed them." 

"But you started having problems as an adult," the anthropologist interjected. Turning to Jim, Blair explained, "Eventually, the heightened senses will surface in every sentinel... and because the mayor suppressed hers..." he turned back to Merri, "they manifested as a zone-out." 

"How did you know?" the mayor asked, surprised by Blair's pronouncement. 

"Before I became a guide, I received my Ph.D. in Sentinel-Guide Studies," Blair explained. "It's a classic response." 

"Well, fortunately, it was a minor zone, and nobody noticed. I attributed it to childhood seizures that occasionally recurred," Merri said. "Anyway, by that time I was already on the city council and considering running for mayor. I needed a guide to stabilize my senses, but if it were known I was a sentinel, I'd have no chance in the mayor's race." 

"So you bought a guide and clothed him, let him speak his mind, and labeled him your Administrative Aide," Jim concluded. 

"Exactly," the mayor agreed. "I don't use my senses on the job. Trevor helps me to suppress them and keeps me from zoning. Because he looks and acts like any normal aide, no one has questioned his presence at my side." 

"But you need for us to keep your confidence, or you could lose your job," Blair concluded. "Tell me, how is it that you could go to the open Guide Market and not be recognized by anyone? It seems to me you took a big risk exposing yourself that way." 

"I considered that," Mayor Whitaker responded thoughtfully. "That's why I made the trip down to Seattle to select a guide." 

Blair nodded in understanding. "Smart move." 

"Fortunate for me," Trevor interjected. "The Cascade facility was full, so they transferred a dozen of us to the Seattle compound." 

Blair's lips compressed as he remembered the overcrowded conditions, and the loss of his only friend and ally. 

Merri nodded. "So, can I count on your silence?" 

"Absolutely," Jim assured her. "Our lips are sealed." 

"That's a relief," Merri sighed. "Now, you mentioned that you had other business?" 

"Yes, and it's not so far removed from the subject we were just discussing," Jim said, sitting straighter in his chair and leaning forward. "As it stands now, empaths are conscripted into the Guide Service against their will and without their consent, and become virtual slaves of the sentinels who buy them." 

"Our basic civil rights are stripped from us, along with our families, our jobs, and our lives for no other reason than we possess a mental capacity for superior empathy," Blair added. "It's the late Twentieth Century, and yet we have a situation where one class of Talents is suppressed and subjugated by another. It's nothing more than government endorsed slavery." 

"I agree... the situation is horrendous," Merri acknowledged. "I couldn't believe what I saw when I went to the Guide Market to purchase Trevor. It's an embarrassment to civilized society." 

"Blair and I would like to change that, with your help," said Jim. 

Trevor looked interested, his eyes lighting with expectation. "What is it you want to do?" 

"First and foremost - end the slavery. Make empaths free citizens again," Jim began, gathering a head of steam now that he was finally able to get his ideas off his chest. "I think empaths should be given the choice as to whether or not they want to become guides, or continue to live their lives as they see fit." 

"What would become of the sentinels, then?" Merri asked. "What empath would choose the Guide Service, if he didn't have to?" 

"Good point," Jim conceded. "But I say we need to restructure the Guide Service to make it a viable and attractive choice." 

"How would you accomplish that?" Trevor interjected. 

"There should be incentives - good money for joining the Guide Service, and a healthy stipend for any guide paired with a sentinel. The payment should be at least equal to, if not better than, the wage the empath earned before entering the Service," Jim stated. " _Make_ empaths _want_ the job, and then test them, retaining only the highest 'E' ratings for pairing with sentinels." 

"And then they need a good training program," Blair added. "Not like what they have now with punishment, torture, and gross humiliation as teaching tools. What they need are other guides to train them in the use of their Talent, to make the most of their mental capacities." 

"I'd like to create something akin to a dating service to pair sentinels and guides," Jim continued. "No more naked guides chained in a public marketplace, but a private screening matching likes and dislikes, personalities... stuff like that. The only pairing we wouldn't be able to sanction is female/female, as penetrative intercourse is required to create and maintain the bond." 

"Guides would know that going in, too," Blair added. "I was a healthy, heterosexual male with an active sex life before I was dragged away and stripped, given no choice with whom I'd be paired. Lucky for me, Jim came along. I'm not ashamed to admit that I love him..." He turned to his partner and smiled. "I don't get fucked... Excuse my language," Blair quickly apologized to the mayor, "but it's the best word to describe the traditional bonding of a sentinel and guide. I don't get fucked to bond, I get loved; and that makes all the difference. Guides should be able to turn down a sentinel match if they can't come to terms with the reality of how the bond is achieved." 

"I agree, the current system needs to be changed," Merri agreed. "But such sweeping changes won't be easy, nor will they be met with open arms by all the people. Many sentinels enjoy the power they hold over their guides, and would not readily relinquish it. And what would happen to the current sentinel-guide pairs? A bond has been formed; what if the guide chooses to leave?" 

"I didn't say it would be easy," Jim admitted. "But things need to change. As for the sentinels who may be left without their guides, there could be an interim program where guide volunteers help stabilize the sentinels until new mates can be found." 

"Let me look into it," the mayor said. "I like your ideas, but I'm going to have to weigh the cost and consequences as well. You do know that there is an opening at the Guide Training Facility for a new head Warden, don't you?" 

"Yes, I'd heard the position was vacant," Jim said as casually as possible. "How are things at the Facility these days?" 

"Everything is in chaos," Merri informed the detective. "Since Warden Cervinski disappeared and one of the training sentinels was murdered, it's been hard to maintain order. Many of the training sentinels have quit their positions, and the guides have had to be locked up to keep the peace." 

"You need a strong hand to maintain order," said Jim, stating the obvious. "Have you considered putting a resourceful sentinel-guide team in the lead position?" 

"Are you offering your services, Sentinel Detective Ellison?" the mayor asked, considering the possibility as she looked over the team that sat across from her desk. 

"The thought has crossed my mind," Jim replied. "Of course, it would mean quitting the police force." 

"We can hardly afford such a loss," Merri said, "and yet it would be the ideal position to begin implementing some of the changes you suggested." She turned to Trevor. "Make a note to schedule an appointment with the Governor at his earliest convenience, would you, please? I need to run the idea of freeing the empaths past him before anything else can really be accomplished." 

"Yes, Madam Mayor," Trevor said, making a note in his date book. 

"Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid our time is about up," Merri said, glancing at the clock. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting with the budget committee in twenty minutes." She waited as Jim and Blair stood, holding out her hand to shake both of theirs. "It was good talking with you. I promise, I'll be in touch." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"That went well, don't you think?" Blair asked as they headed back down to City Hall's parking garage. 

"As well as can be expected when you're dealing with bureaucrats," Jim replied, climbing into the truck. "I wouldn't count on anything happening any time soon." 

"But Merri's a sentinel, too," Blair reminded his partner. "She treats Trevor the way you treat me, like an equal. She was appalled at how guides are treated in the market. I think you made an impression, man. Just wait; you'll see." 

"Don't get your hopes up, Chief. It's a long way from a done deal," Jim cautioned. 

The drive to the police department was a short one. The sentinel and guide had no sooner set foot through the doors of Major Crime when Captain Banks stuck his head out of his office and bellowed. "Ellison, Sandburg - my office, now!" 

The two men exchanged glances and then headed for the captain's office. "Good morning, Simon. Sorry we're a little late," said Jim as they walked through the door, closing it behind them. Both men took a seat in front of the captain's desk. 

"I just got a call from the mayor," Simon said, chewing on the stump of a cigar. "She asked me how I'd feel about losing my best team." He stopped to stare down at the two men. "What did she mean by that?" 

Blair glanced over at Jim, looking for the sentinel to take the lead. "Well, you see, Simon, it's like this..." Jim began, plowing on despite the captain's scowl. "I've been thinking about leaving the Department for a while now; well, ever since Blair got hurt this last time," he corrected. "And before that, too, actually," he added quickly when it looked like Simon might protest. "It's just that this job is too dangerous for someone without the training, and I can't continue to risk Blair's life. He's my guide, my soulmate, Simon. I'd be lost without him." 

"I'll start the paperwork to send him to the Police Academy," Simon said, finally sitting behind his desk. "Once he's trained, he'll be even more of an asset to the team than he already is." The captain glanced at Blair, who smiled nervously back. 

"No, no... that's not the point," Jim argued. "He'd still be in danger. This is a dangerous job and I can't, I won't, see Blair hurt again." 

"And what's your take on this, Sandburg?" Simon asked, turning his attention to the guide. 

"I don't feel like I need to be coddled," Blair replied. "Whatever Jim decides to do, I'll be there to watch his back; whether he decides to stay here, or move on to something else." 

"Did the mayor have anything else to say?" Jim interrupted. 

"She mentioned something about the idea of appointing you Warden at the Guide Training Facility," said Simon, looking suspiciously at the two men. "Now where would she get an idea like that?" 

"That's the reason we're late this morning," Blair chimed in. "We had an early morning appointment with the mayor. Jim's got some great ideas on how to reform the Guide Service, and he wanted to run them past Mayor Whitaker." 

"So you plan on capitalizing on your Sentinel and Guide of the Year awards by leaving the PD?" Simon put down his cigar and concentrated on his team. "You're just going to leave me here in the lurch?" 

"No, sir, not at all," Jim rushed to explain. "I don't even have the job yet; a long way from it, in fact. The mayor has to go through the governor, first, to get some initial ideas approved. And then there's all the red tape of an administrative appointment. If, _if_ I get the position, I'll be able to train better sentinel-guide pairs, Simon. I can replace Blair and myself with dozens more just like us." 

"And if you don't get the appointment, what then? Will you stay with the PD?" 

Jim was silent for the space of several heartbeats as he considered the question. "No. In all good faith, I can't. I won't keep risking Blair's life. It's as simple as that." 

"What would you do?" Simon asked softly, knowing the subject pained his detective almost as much as it did himself. 

"I don't know." Jim shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe get into politics, become a City Councilman; change the system from the inside." 

"I could go back to teaching and research full-time," Blair added. "My income as a tenured professor at Rainier would be enough to keep us afloat until Jim decides what to do." 

"It sounds to me as though you've already made up your minds," Simon said, sighing. "I don't suppose there's anything I can say or do to change your minds?" 

"No, sir," Jim replied quietly. 

"How soon are you leaving?" 

Jim took a deep breath. "I'm requesting that you not give us any new assignments. Give me two weeks to clean up the open cases on my desk." 

Simon nodded. "All right. But in the meantime, I'm going to do my damnedest to convince you to stay." 

"That's your right, sir," Jim agreed. "Just don't expect to change our minds." He rose and pulled Blair up with him, handing the injured guide his crutch. "Come on, we have work to finish up." The pair exited the captain's office and headed toward the stack of files still piled on Jim's desk. 

_Two weeks later:_

"You don't have to do this for my sake, Jim." Blair looked across the breakfast table at his lover. "I know you're just trying to protect me, but I can take care of myself. My leg is nearly healed and I can get around on my own. This job has been your _life_. I don't want to be the cause of you quitting something you love to do." 

"I'm not going to risk losing you," Jim repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past fourteen days. "Besides, I have other agendas now." 

"The reform idea is great," Blair agreed, "and way past overdue, but the mayor hasn't called, and you don't know for sure that she will." 

"If it doesn't happen, I'll find another way," Jim stated. "Either way, I'm marching into Simon's office this morning to deliver my resignation." 

The television had been softly playing the morning news in the background while the sentinel and guide discussed Jim's future. Without warning, a familiar voice sounded from the speakers. "That's the mayor!" Blair declared, scrambling up from the table to cross the room and turn up the sound. 

"...adies and gentlemen, thank you for gathering here this morning. I have called this press conference to make an important announcement that will affect a specific segment of our population here in Cascade. 

"As you are all aware, our fair city is known for its progressive attitude, for leading the way in a number of important issues. This is no different. Today, in a land where freedom reigns supreme, we still keep slaves." At her pronouncement, the crowd of reporters began to buzz, shooting questions at the mayor that she deftly pushed aside. "There will be time for questions later. And, yes, we do still condone slavery here. Go down to the waterfront, any day of the week, to the Guide Market and you'll find men and women stripped and chained, being sold like cattle. Men and women, just like you and me, who are no different except that they possess a singular Talent for empathy, which the sentinels exploit for their own use. Men and women, dragged away from their homes, their spouses, their children, and their jobs to be conscripted into slave service against their will. 

"This is an abomination in this day and age. We abolished slavery over a hundred years ago in one of the bloodiest wars this country has ever seen. And yet today we see empaths walking leashed behind their owners. Well... not in Cascade! 

"I have spoken with the Governor and he agrees that sanctioned slavery should be abolished once more. However, the wheels of government move slowly on the state and national level, and it may be a while before we see a freeing of the empaths as a class. But as mayor of this fine city, I have come to the conclusion that we need not wait to institute reform. 

"As of midnight tonight, all guides living and working within the city limits of Cascade will be required to be clothed while in public. This includes all buildings and businesses in which the public is allowed, as well as the streets and parks of the city. No guide shall be leashed or in any other way physically bound to his or her sentinel. However, since guides are not yet free, any who use the new law to run away will be treated as fugitives and subject to jail time if captured. 

"This is a period of reformation. On January first of this coming year, _all_ empaths in the city - uncommitted men and women, as well as those guides currently attached to a sentinel - will become free and independent citizens of Cascade. During the interim, it is advised that sentinels and guides discuss their future. Those guides wishing to leave the service of their current sentinels to return to their families should give notice, so that the sentinel will have adequate time to procure a replacement. Guides wishing to stay in the service of their sentinels should negotiate a reasonable, living wage for their services. 

"As of the first of the new year, empaths will no longer be conscripted into the Guide Service. The Service will become a voluntary organization, recruiting only the finest empaths to train as the next generation of guides. Incentives will be offered to make the Service an enticing alternative, including a generous wage and continued contact with friends and family on the outside." The mayor stopped to take a breath and the media began besieging her with questions. 

Jim reached over and turned off the television, a look of disbelief on his face. "Oh, good God -" 

"She's just trying to do the right thing -" Blair sank onto the couch, running a hand through his tousled hair. 

Jim nodded, sitting beside Blair and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I just hope she hasn't bitten off more than she can chew. This is a big step, even with over three months to adjust to the idea." 

"You still going to turn in your resignation?" Blair lifted his eyes to study Jim's somber face. 

"Looks like I'm going to have to," said Jim with a sigh. "The mayor is going to need someone to help pull her out of this hole she's digging for herself." 

"And that someone is you?" The question was rhetorical, but Blair felt the need to voice it all the same. 

"That 'someone' is _us_ , Chief." As Jim stood up to go gather his coat, his cell phone rang. "Ellison. Yes, he's right here." He handed the phone to Blair who was still seated on the couch. "It's your friend from the mayor's office." 

"Hey, Trevor!" 

"Did you hear the mayor's announcement this morning?" Trevor's words nearly tripped over one another in their rush to get out. 

"It was pretty hard to miss," Blair blurted into the small mouthpiece. "What was she thinking? Shouldn't she have warned someone first; like, say, the PD?" 

"I don't know," Trevor sighed. "I tried to talk her out of announcing it this morning, but she insisted we'd waited too long already. She plans to appoint Sentinel Ellison as Head Warden of the Guide Training Facility." 

"Jim's got some great ideas," Blair agreed, "but it's going to take time to implement them. I'm not sure that three months is going to be long enough to prepare for a reform this sweeping. Can you possibly get us an appointment to speak with Merri?" 

"Already done. She's expecting you both to come by this morning at ten o'clock. That's when she plans on naming Jim Warden of the Facility," said Trevor. 

"We'll be there. Thanks, Trev, and good luck!" Blair ended the conversation and handed the cell phone back to Jim. "The mayor wants to see us at ten. She plans on naming you the new Warden." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Simon took the news better than I thought he would," Blair commented as they pulled into the parking garage at City Hall. 

"He's been expecting it, and the mayor's little speech this morning just capped it for us," Jim replied. "It doesn't sound like I'll have to worry about where my next paycheck is coming from, at any rate." 

"Are you sure you want this, Jim? It's going to be a huge responsibility, and not everyone over at the Training Facility is going to welcome the changes." Blair pulled his coat tighter around him against the nip in the late September air and followed his partner to the building's elevator. 

Jim nodded and waited for the elevator door to close before speaking. "It looks like I may not have a choice," he sighed. "But things can't stay the way they are; it's time for a change." 

"You know I'll support you, whatever you choose to do." The elevator door swished open on the second floor and Blair led the way out into the hall, headed for the mayor's office. 

"Let's see what Ms. Whitaker has in mind." Jim pushed through the door to the outer office and was greeted by the mayor's secretary. "We're here to see the mayor - Ellison and Sandburg, we have an appointment." 

"Yes, sir," the secretary said, nodding. "Just wait right here." She got up and knocked on an inner door before entering. "The mayor will see you now," she said, returning to her desk a few moments later. 

"Jim! Blair! Good to see you!" Merri greeted the partners as though they were old friends. "Have a seat. We have a lot to discuss." 

"I'll say we do," Jim growled. 

The mayor sat behind her desk and folded her hands. "I'm sorry if I blindsided you with my little pronouncement earlier this morning, but I've been thinking about this since the day I took office. Our little talk a couple of weeks ago just galvanized my resolve." 

"I think it's great," Blair said. "But it might have been better to wait until you had an infrastructure in place to help support your ideas." 

"The infrastructure is already built, it simply needs remodeling," Mayor Whitaker explained. "And that's where you come in, Jim. Are you still willing to take over the position of Head Warden at the Guide Training Facility?" 

"I don't see where I have much of a choice in the matter," Jim grumbled. "You need someone who can implement your ideas, and I'm that man." 

"What do you expect us to do with the current guides in training?" asked Blair. "You aren't freeing empaths for over ninety days, but these guides aren't paired with sentinels yet, either." 

"We'll need a foundation of trained guides ready for service at the start of the new year," said the mayor. "I'd suggest continuing their training in a humane fashion, and then giving them the choice to stay or go come January. I'm hoping that once the incentives are in place, most will choose to stay." 

"The guides currently at the Facility have been abused and tortured in the name of training," Blair stated with absolute authority. "Even given humane treatment now, and incentives later, I doubt that you'll be able to keep many of them in the Guide Service." 

"We'll have to take that as it comes," the mayor said with a shrug. "I'm certain we'll be able to recruit new empaths once the program is in place and running properly." 

"But what about the sentinels in the meantime?" asked Jim. "Those who have lost their guides, or who have just had their senses come on-line, are very vulnerable. Empaths may have the choice of whether or not to become guides, but sentinels have no choice and require an empath to stabilize their senses. What about them?" 

"They can come to the Training Facility to be paired with a temporary guide, couldn't they?" Merri asked. 

"That's just a band-aid for the problem," Blair told her. "Sentinels need permanent guides, and they don't take well to separation. The hospitals should be warned to expect an increase in the number of zone-outs they treat." 

"I'll make a note of that," the mayor said. "I've spoken with the Interim Warden at the Facility, a Mr. Abernathy. He didn't seem too fond of the idea of reform, especially when I told him that I had someone else in mind for the permanent Warden position. It seems that rumors are abounding there about the deaths and disappearances at the Facility." 

"Really?" Jim said, cocking an eyebrow. "Did they mention their speculations to you?" 

"Frankly, yes," Mayor Whitaker said. "The current feeling there is that you were somehow responsible, Jim. The missing and the dead were all involved directly with Blair's 'retraining' while he was at the Facility a year ago." 

"Interesting. Well, I'm sure it's just a coincidence," replied Jim. 

"Not that I was the least sorry to see any of them go," Blair responded softly. 

"Blair?" The mayor turned to look at the suddenly quiet guide. 

Blair looked up, pinning the mayor with bright, blue eyes. "I had nothing to do with it, and there's no evidence that Jim did, either." 

"I believe you," Merri said. "But it might make the transition of power at the Facility a bit more problematical. I'm sorry about that." 

"It won't be a problem," Jim assured her. "I won't let it become one." 

"Very good." The mayor shuffled through some papers on her desk, finding a form that she pushed in front of the sentinel and guide. "I need both of your signatures at the bottom of this contract. It names Jim as Warden, and you, Blair, as the chief empath in charge of training incoming guides." 

"But I have my job at Rainier," Blair protested. 

"I've spoken with Chancellor Edwards and she has granted you a two year sabbatical to help get the new Guide Training Facility up and running. Frankly, I was a bit surprised at her willingness to let you go so easily." 

Blair's mouth turned down in distaste. "I'm not," he grumbled. "But in any case, it sounds as though I'm going to have my hands full for a while, so perhaps it's just as well." 

"Good! I knew I could count on you," Merri said as the two men signed the document. "If you like, feel free to take a tour there today. Get to know the people, see the conditions. It will give you a better handle on the situation for when you officially start tomorrow." 

"What do you think, Blair? Do you want to go back today, or do you need some time to digest everything?" Jim looked toward his guide with concern. Blair hadn't set foot inside the Training Facility since Jim had rescued him from the clutches of the insane sentinel, Alex Barnes, almost a full year ago. 

"I think it might be a good idea," Blair said slowly. "I need to go back; I need to face the demons waiting for me there." A small grin curved his lips. "I can do this, Jim." 

"I guess that settles it," Jim said, turning to the mayor. 

Merri stood and held out her hand. "I knew I could count on both of you. I know this isn't going to be easy, but together, I think we can pull it off." 

"Good luck, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to call." Trevor, who had been a silent witness to the meeting up to now, rose to shake hands with the sentinel and guide. "And, Blair, if you need to talk to someone who knows first-hand what you've been through - you have my number." 

"Thanks, Trev. I'll be in touch," Blair promised. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair paused at the door to the Guide Training Facility. The hesitation was brief, but didn't go unnoticed by his partner. "We don't have to do this right now, if you're not ready," Jim said, releasing the door handle. "For that matter, you don't have to come in with me tomorrow if you don't want." 

"Yes, I do." Blair glanced up at Jim before pushing through the door into the lobby. "You need me here, more than ever. You're getting good at handling your senses on a day-to-day basis, but you'll be assaulted by a lot more stimuli in the Facility. You'll need someone to ground you, and that person is me." 

"Warden Ellison!" The receptionist looked up from her paperwork to greet the couple. "We weren't expecting you and Blair in until tomorrow." 

"Dr. Sandburg," Jim growled at the young woman. "His title is 'Doctor'. I expect the staff here to treat him with respect; Blair is a free man." 

"Yes, sir," said the chastised woman. "My apologies, Dr. Sandburg." 

"No problem." Blair waved away the apology as he followed Jim around the desk and through the double doors that led back into the main facility. "It hasn't changed much," he said softly as they walked past a training room where a number of naked men practiced drills with the training sentinels. 

"That's going to change, I promise," Jim said firmly. 

A uniformed man came down the wide hallway toward the newcomers. He came to a stop in front of Jim, completely ignoring the younger man at his side. "Interim Warden Brad Abernathy, at your service." He executed a smart salute and then stood at attention. 

"At ease," Jim commanded, waiting for the man to relax. 

"Sir, we weren't expecting you until tomorrow," said Abernathy. 

"I'm aware of that," Jim said coldly. "I thought it might be nice if Dr. Sandburg and I had a tour of the Facility first; get a feel for the place." 

"Of course, sir. Follow me." Abernathy turned on his heel and started back down the corridor. He stopped in front of an open door and gestured inward. "This will be your office. I'll have my things out by tonight." 

Jim stepped inside, followed closely by Blair. The outer office looked quite ordinary - a desk, file cabinets, a row of shelves filled with manuals - everything he would need to run the day-to-day operations of the institution. He stepped around the desk to open a door in the back wall. Inside was an intimately small room filled with a bed, a nightstand, and to one side, a guide cage. "We won't be needing that," Jim said, pointing to the offensive enclosure. "For that matter, by tomorrow, I want _all_ guide cages gone from the building. I don't care what you have to do with them - drag them off to the dump for all I care - but get rid of them!" 

"Yes, sir," Abernathy said. "Anything else, sir?" 

"I'd like to see more, if you'd care to show us around," Jim replied. 

"Right this way." Abernathy turned and began to lead the way deeper into the building. "This is the cafeteria," he said, walking in to a large room. Long tables with benches were set up in rows down the middle of the room, with the food line at the far end. Naked and leashed men and women sat quietly on the bench seats eating meager rations, while the training sentinels sat at tables in one corner of the room, enjoying a hearty meal. The sentinels all looked up at the intrusion, frowning slightly at the appearance of their new Warden and his guide. Jim noted that the guides ignored their presence, as though pretending the Warden didn't exist might lessen their suffering. 

As they left the cafeteria to continue down the hall, Blair spoke up for the first time. "Do the guides here even know about the new regulations? They don't act very happy to see us." 

"The medical facilities are just down this hallway," said Abernathy, taking an adjoining hallway to the right. "We have state-of-the-art facilities for both sentinels and guides, should they be needed." 

"My partner asked you a question." Jim turned and spoke sharply to the Warden. 

"No, we thought it wiser not to tell the guides about the new regulations until it was time to put them in place," Abernathy said stiffly, speaking directly to Jim. "There was concern about an uprising and our ability to control the guides should they decide to act in concert against us. They do, after all, outnumber us three to one." 

"Clothing and humane treatment would go a long way toward quelling any thoughts of rebellion," Blair shot back as though Abernathy had spoken directly to him. 

"That may be true," said Abernathy, continuing to direct his replies toward Jim, "but we thought it best to wait for the new administration to make the announcement." He opened the door to the infirmary and stepped aside to let Jim and Blair pass. 

Blair froze at the doorway, unable to make his feet move past the threshold. Jim stepped in before noticing that his partner was no longer at his side. "Blair? Is everything all right?" 

"I-I can't go i-in there." Blair shivered as his gaze swept the sterile, white room. 

Jim walked back out of the infirmary and wrapped his arms around his guide, pulling Blair against his chest. "You don't have to," he soothed. "I can only imagine the horrors that happened to you there." He turned to the Warden. "We've seen enough of the infirmary." 

"How about the exercise yards?" Abernathy suggested. 

Blair shook his head against Jim's chest. "I'm sorry, Jim. I-I've had enough for today." His voice was soft and full of apology. 

"That's okay, Chief. We've got plenty of time to explore tomorrow. I promise that you don't need to go anywhere that makes you feel uncomfortable." Jim hugged his guide a final time before gently pushing Blair away. "Time to go home." He turned to Abernathy. "I'll expect those guide cages gone when we come in tomorrow, and all the guides will be clothed and off their leashes." 

"Yes, sir," Abernathy agreed, snapping another salute at the departing couple. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Abernathy looked around the table at the assembled sentinels and sub-Wardens. "We've got to do something. It's bad enough that we're going to have to treat the _guides_..." he practically spit the word, "like human beings, but to have to put up with Ellison as Warden -" He thumped the table with his fist. "That man is the cause of the disappearance of Warden Cervinski, and of the deaths of Travers and the doctor. I'd stake my reputation on it!" 

"So, what are we going to do?" one of the sentinels asked. 

"I believe that what goes around, comes around," Abernathy said with a wicked grin. "It's time for Warden Ellison to 'disappear'." 

~oO0Oo~ 

Jim steered Blair toward the stairs and up to their bedroom. Pushing his lover down gently, Jim began to slowly disrobe the quiet man. "It's all right, you know," he said softly. "You have reason to be afraid of the infirmary." 

Blair pushed his way into the middle of the bed, sprawled and naked as he waited for Jim to join him. "But it's over, done. Doctor Weaver is dead, and I've recovered my abilities. I _should_ be able to face my fear." 

Jim crawled onto the bed, having removed his own clothing, and gathered Blair into his arms. "You are one of the strongest, most courageous men I know," he whispered softly. "You can do anything you have to do; you only need to wait until the time is right." He leaned down to capture the parted lips in a gentle kiss. 

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim, pulling him deeper into the kiss. "I love you," he whispered when they finally separated. 

Jim knelt between Blair's spread legs and bent over his bondmate, trailing light kisses across the furred expanse of Blair's chest. His tongue lapped over the tight nipples, causing Blair to shudder with delight and arch into the touch. Jim concentrated on the right nipple, teasing the nub with his teeth before settling in to suckle. His right hand came up to play with the silver ring in Blair's left nipple, tugging gently on it as his mouth ravished its twin. 

Blair squirmed under the intense pleasure from Jim's talented mouth. His cock swelled to fullness, aching for attention. Bucking his hips, he tried to find relief by rubbing his cock across Jim's abdomen. But the sentinel had other ideas. Reaching down, he pressed the insistent organ against its owner's belly, pushing Blair's hips back onto the mattress. Blair groaned and writhed under the pressure of Jim's hand, trying to free himself. 

The sentinel continued his intricate mapping of Blair's body with his mouth until the younger man's cries echoed off the walls of the loft. With a smooth, swift move, Jim hooked Blair's legs over his shoulders and sheathed his own hard shaft in the tightness of his lover's body. 

Blair cried out, pushing his hips against Jim until the sentinel's balls rested against his butt. The ache of his cock was forgotten in the wake of his current fullness - both body and mind sweetly assaulted together. 

*I love you, Blair; I believe in you / your love sustains me; if you believe it, I can do it / I draw my strength from you, my guide / and you return it tenfold / together we are invincible / I will always keep a part of you with me, my sentinel* 

Blair grunted as the thick cock within him began to move. Gripping the sheets, he relaxed his lower body, allowing Jim to set the rhythm of the thrusts. Long fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking its length in time with the pulse of their bodies. Jim's skin glistened with perspiration in the soft light of the bedroom, his breathing becoming labored with the physical activity and the nearness of his climax. 

The cock within Blair changed its angle, putting pressure against his prostate with every stroke. The guide's body shook with tension as his cock throbbed to the rapid beating of his heart. 

_bring me with you_

The mental plea trembled with need. Jim concentrated his final thrusts as his hand pulled at Blair's cock. 

_together we are stronger_

As hot semen flooded his colon, Blair's come sprayed over Jim's hand and chest, their combined cries of completion cut short as Jim collapsed on top of him, still buried in the tight heat of his ass. 

Blair let his legs slip off Jim's shoulders, and the two men lay content for several long moments. Eventually, Jim found the strength to roll off his lover's chest. He gathered Blair into his arms, kissing the full lips almost chastely one last time before they both fell into an exhausted sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Are you ready for this?" Blair asked as they stood outside the main doors to the Guide Training Facility the next morning. 

Jim nodded curtly. "Let's get it over with." 

"Good morning, Warden Ellison, Dr. Sandburg," the receptionist greeted the men. 

"'Morning!" Blair replied as the two men breezed by, heading straight for Jim's office. 

"Looks like Brad got everything cleaned out like he said he would," Blair commented as they stepped into the stripped office. 

"Speaking of Abernathy," Jim said, seating himself behind the desk, "I need to find him and get a rundown on operations around here. You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he added. "It's going to be pretty dry going for a day or two." 

"I'd like to go meet with the guides," Blair said. "I need to get to know them, talk with them one-on-one to even know where to start with their training." 

"Sounds like a plan," Jim agreed, pulling the budget report from the stack of papers on his right and waving off his guide. "I _hate_ paperwork," Blair heard his sentinel grumble as he gently closed the door behind himself. 

Blair walked down the corridor toward the Guide Quarters, a lump growing in his throat as ghosts of the past walked with him. _You can do this, Sandburg,_ he chided himself. _This is the day you prayed for - the day you would be in charge._ He used a card key to enter the locked room, stopping in shock at the sight that greeted him. 

The large room was nearly at capacity. Somewhere near three dozen men, and one woman, looked up at his entrance. All were naked. Some stood, some sat, a few were still sleeping curled on the hard linoleum floor. 

"Shit!" Blair stepped into the room, shaking his head. "Can someone please tell me what's going on here?" He was greeted by stony silence. "Look, this isn't some kind of a trick," he tried again. Slipping out of his coat he approached the lone female guide who sat on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chin. He draped the warm clothing over her shoulders and squatted down to look into her eyes. "My name is Blair Sandburg. I'm Warden Ellison's guide," he said softly. "What's your name?" 

The young woman shook her head, remaining silent. 

"Look, it's all right to talk," Blair encouraged her. "The rules around here are changing. It's okay for guides to speak now. Please, tell me your name?" 

"Linda," the woman replied softly. 

"Well, Linda, you may call me Blair," Blair told her. "Don't worry, we're going to find clothing for all of you," he said, looking up at the assembled guides. "The orders were that you were to be clothed by this morning. Someone is going to pay for screwing up." 

One of the men approached cautiously. "You're really the new Warden's guide?" 

Blair nodded as he stood to meet the man face to face. "Yes, I am. And what you see is what you will become," he promised. "Mayor Whitaker has declared that all guides, all empaths, will be free citizens come the first of the New Year. Until that time, you are all to be clothed, unfettered, and treated humanely and with respect. From this point forward, _I_ will be your trainer. You won't work with a sentinel until I decide you're ready." 

"And we won't be punished for speaking?" another man asked, coming to stand beside the first. 

"On the contrary; you'll be encouraged to speak, to offer suggestions. I want to know what works and what doesn't. I want to train the best guides Cascade has ever seen." Blair smiled at the men. "But for right now, I need to find out what's going on here; why you're all still naked. I'll be back, I promise," he said, turning away and opening the door. 

"Thank you," came the soft voice of Linda from behind Blair. He turned to smile at the young woman who now sat with the coat pulled tightly around her. 

"You're welcome," said Blair sincerely. 

He waited until the door had closed and locked behind him before he stormed back through the corridors to Jim's office. Slamming through the door, he startled Brad Abernathy who was in conference with the Warden. "The guides are all still as naked as the day they were born!" he steamed. "The guide cages are gone, leaving those people nowhere to sleep but on the cold, hard floor. What gives?" 

"Whoa there, Chief," Jim said, holding up a hand. He turned to Abernathy. "What gives?" he echoed. 

"Well, as you can see," Brad said, leafing through the budget they had been discussing, "there is no allowance for clothing for the guides. Guides have always gone naked. That's just the way it is." 

"That's not the way it is anymore," Jim said coldly. 

"The budget can't be renegotiated until December. After that, it doesn't even go into effect until March. There's no money for clothing." Abernathy's voice was almost a whine, grating on the sentinel's frayed nerves. 

"Something has to be done in the meantime," Jim pronounced. He stood up and walked into the small bonding room in the back of his office. Stripping the blankets and sheets from the bed, he walked out and handed them to Blair. "Divide these up the best you can. Tear the sheets in half if you have to. Strip the beds of all the other sentinels in this godforsaken place, and see to it that every guide has _something_ to cover up with." 

Blair nodded, gathering the bedding into a ball in his arms. "Can I take Brad with me?" he asked. "I'll need access to the sentinels' rooms." 

"Take him. Go on," Jim said, waving the two men away. "I've got to have a little talk with the mayor about what's going on here." 

After Blair had left, Jim turned to the phone and pressed the speed dial for the mayor's office. "I need to speak with Mayor Whitaker, please. This is Warden Ellison from the Training Facility. Yes, I'll hold." Jim tapped a pencil on the stubborn budget report as he waited. Discretionary funds were nearly non-existent, and all other money seemed to be tied up in the necessary running of the institution. As with all other agencies these days, money was tight and cuts had to be made; but Jim wasn't going to let the guides under his control suffer because of some bureaucrat's stinginess. 

_"Jim? I didn't expect to hear from you on the very first day,"_ the mayor's voice greeted him. 

"I didn't expect to be calling," Jim acknowledged. "But I also didn't expect to come in here and find all the guides still naked." 

_"Oh, my... Was there an explanation?"_

"No clothes on hand, and nothing budgeted. There's no wiggle room here for me at all, that I can see," Jim told the mayor. "There simply isn't any money to comply with the regulations. Is there some other way I can get clothing - perhaps from the state prison system? Anything?" 

_"I don't think that would be possible,"_ Merri said. _"I only have control over the city and county jails. As this injunction to clothe and free the guides is only effective in Cascade, I don't think we can count on any help from the state."_

"Then can you give me something from the county jails?" Jim pleaded. "Any institution that may have a small surplus. We only require enough for three dozen guides." 

_"I'll see what I can do,"_ said the mayor, _"but I can't make any promises. In the meantime, you may have to get creative. I have confidence that you'll find a solution."_

Jim sighed. "All right. Thank you..." As he hung up the phone, he grumbled, "...for nothing." He scrubbed his face with his hands before getting up and exiting his office in search of Blair and Brad Abernathy. He found them in the Guide Quarters, sectioning sheets and handing out the frugal coverings to the grateful men. He picked up a sheet and ripped it down the middle, handing each half to a guide. 

"How'd the talk with Merri go?" Blair asked, looking up from his task. 

Jim shook his head. "She wasn't a whole lot of help. She suggested we get creative." 

"Creative, huh? I can do creative." Blair handed out the last of the sheets and looked around at the guides. Linda approached, her head bowed. "Hey, Linda. What can I do for you?" 

"D-Do you have any more sheets, or a blanket?" She started to slip out of the overcoat Blair had given her earlier. "This belongs to you." 

Blair quickly reached out and pulled the coat back over her shoulders. "I'll come collect my coat after we get you some real clothes to wear, all right? You just hang onto it for now." 

The young woman met Blair's eyes with disbelief and thankfulness, and then quietly turned and walked back to a corner of the room. 

"We have got to do something!" Blair sighed. "Hey, I know! These guides can't go home yet, but there's no regulation keeping their families from visiting, is there?" 

"Once a empath comes to the Facility," Brad interrupted, "they are cut off from their families. They need to concentrate on learning how to be guides. Family visits are strictly forbidden." 

"Not anymore," Jim growled. "Good idea, Chief. I'll get Cynthia to start making the calls. Maybe the families can give us temporary supplies." He turned and walked from the room, ignoring the icy stare from the former Warden. 

Jim approached the reception desk. "Cynthia?" 

The receptionist turned and smiled at him. "Yes, Warden Ellison? What can I do for you?" 

"I need for you to access the records of each guide here, and contact their immediate families. We need to request articles of clothing, including underwear; personal care items; sleeping bags, pillows, and bedding. Anything they can part with," Jim told her. 

"I'll see what I can do," Cynthia promised. 

"Sweeten the pot with the promise of a visit," said Jim. "I'll bet all the guides here are pretty homesick by now. The family members can present the items personally." 

"I'll get right on it." Cynthia turned to her computer and began tapping the keys. 

Satisfied that he'd done what he could for the time being, Jim headed back to the pile of paperwork that still waited for his attention. 

~oO0Oo~ 

The week that followed was a hive of activity. Family members, long separated from their loved ones, came loaded down with items from home. The small, individual training rooms suddenly became private reception areas, where one guide after another spent precious time getting caught up on family news; reuniting with spouses and children, crying on the shoulders of mothers and fathers. 

The news had gotten out about the needs of the institution and of the guides housed there. Blair smiled inwardly as he saw a huge truck from the local Mattress Factory Outlet pull up out front with mattresses and frames for a dozen new beds. The linen store from downtown arrived with bedding and towel sets for all the guides. 

Not to be outdone, Sleep Central brought a dozen more beds, leaving the Facility only one dozen beds short. Mattress Emporium rounded out the three large bedroom chains in town by providing the final sets of mattresses and frames. 

The Guide Quarters, which had been set up with bunked guide cages, was too small to accommodate all of the new beds, so Jim requisitioned the gymnasium. It was perfect. The beds could all be set up in rows along opposite walls, with room for privacy screens between them. The gym's bathroom facilities were nearby to allow the guides easy access to the lavatories and showers. 

It was mayhem getting everything set up, but the guides pitched in with enthusiasm. Brad Abernathy and his group of cohorts stood near the double doors leading out to the exercise yard. "We're losing control," Brad muttered. "The monkeys are running the zoo." 

"Is there anything we can do?" one of the training sentinels asked. "Now that the regs have changed -" 

"To kill a snake, you have to cut off its head," Abernathy replied softly, gazing at Jim, who directed the activities as he pitched in to help get everything organized. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Nearly two weeks had passed since Jim had taken control of the Training Facility. The guides now had clothing and beds, and the tidal wave of visitations had slowed to a manageable pace. It was time to begin the business for which the institution had been established: training guides. 

Blair eyed the rows of assembled empaths, each one eager to listen to what he had to say. Jim stood behind him, trying to remain unobtrusive, while at the same time lending an air of authority to the address. 

Stepping up to the microphone, Blair smiled and nodded to the group. "It is the dawn of a new era," he began, bringing a wave of vocal approval from the guides. "Like you, I am an empath. Some of you may even remember me from the time I spent here a year ago during my 'retraining'. I _know_ what you've suffered, firsthand. But I'm here to tell you that being a guide, part of a team with a sentinel, can be one of the most rewarding things you have ever done or ever will do. 

"Your training at this Facility will continue under my tutelage until the first of the new year. After that, you will be free to stay or to go. I'm hoping that many will choose to stay, once you see the reforms planned for this institution. In the meantime, it's time for us all to reclaim that which was taken from us - our independence and our dignity." Another round of applause drowned out Blair's last few words. He waited patiently for the noise to die down. 

"To that end, I'm here to tell you that _you_ have the power, you always have. Each of you, when your empathy was initially triggered, began to build barriers against the unwanted intrusion of other people's emotions. Whether consciously or subconsciously, you learned to block the maelstrom around you, to build your shields and maintain them. You do not require a sentinel to sustain and protect you; however, the sentinels _do_ require _you_. 

"Even a sentinel who chooses not to make special use of his or her senses is vulnerable to a zone-out if one sense gets over-stimulated. Without a guide to go into their minds and lead them out, these sentinels would live their lives in a virtual coma. Some zones are so deep that they can even affect the autonomic nervous system, suppressing such life supporting functions as breathing or the heartbeat. Sentinels require the presence of a guide - not the other way around. 

"Because of this, some twenty-odd years ago when the first urban sentinels began appearing in this country, they sought out and subjugated the empaths. Their fear-based response was primarily that if they did not enslave the Talents, they would have no guides, no control. Therefore, they dragged us from our homes, took away our clothing and leashed us, treating us as no more than animals. By taking away our basic human rights, by instilling fear and dependence, they kept us at their sides. 

"Here in Cascade, we're taking the steps to change all that. Guides will be paired with compatible sentinels, they will be given a comfortable wage and a benefit package. They will be able to visit with friends and family, and carry on a normal social life. The sentinel-guide pairing will be a working relationship, unless both parties agree otherwise. The guide will always have the option of leaving, if the sentinel breaks any of the rules regarding their treatment. 

"Sentinels will always require guides, and it is my hope that there will always be sufficient empaths willing to take on the challenge. Personally...?" Blair turned to Jim and smiled, reaching back to clasp the sentinel's hand. "I wouldn't want it any other way." Jim beamed at his guide with love and pride. 

Applause broke out in the room once again, as the guides gave Blair a standing ovation. In the back of the room, Brad Abernathy and a handful of training sentinels who had come to hear the new Training Guide's speech, turned and quietly left. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"I remember him when he was naked and leashed," Brad spat as he walked down the hall with his fellow sentinels. "He's a well-hung whore. I wouldn't have minded fucking his ass myself." 

"Maybe you'll get your chance yet," Chet Quigley chuckled, slapping Brad's back. 

"Sure is an uppity little thing, isn't he?" added Al Pedersen. "Mighty full of himself for a guide. I think he needs to be brought down a notch or two." 

"Maybe later," Brad said, waving off the comments. "First, I want to get the new Warden. He took out three good men, including Cervinski, and I intend to avenge their deaths. Once I've taken care of him, then I can take my pleasure with his guide." 

"We'll take turns," chuckled Dennis Mayhill, rubbing his hands together. "I wouldn't mind getting a piece of that ass myself." 

"I-I heard he can defend himself with his mind - knock men out cold with just a thought," Ted Sykes said timidly as he followed the others down the hall. 

"That was before," Brad answered with confidence. "When he was brought here for retraining, one of the first things they did was scramble his brains. Gave the little perv a psychic lobotomy; brought him down to a weak E3. He couldn't hurt a fly anymore. Don't worry, once we take care of his sentinel, we'll have ourselves a little fun with the guide." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"That went well, don't you think?" Jim asked as he and Blair walked down the hallway to Jim's office. 

"Peachy," Blair agreed. 

"What's the matter?" Jim asked, picking up something in the tone in his guide's voice. 

Blair shook his head. "I don't know. I feel uneasy for some reason." 

Jim steered them into the office and back to the bonding room. Closing the door, he pulled Blair down onto the bed and gathered him in his arms. "What do you have to feel uneasy about? You did great getting everything the guides needed, and that little speech of yours certainly got them enthusiastic about the program." 

"You got them the clothes and the family visits," Blair reminded his sentinel. "I just put a bug in the media's ear. The networks were the ones to entice the businesses to donate." 

"That certainly doesn't lessen your contribution," Jim said, nuzzling through the locks of hair to nibble on an earlobe. "Nothing for you to feel uneasy about." 

"I don't know what it is," Blair said, pushing away. "Sorry, Jim, but I don't feel like bonding right now." 

"Got a headache?" Jim asked lightly, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. 

"Something like that," Blair said, his voice heavy. 

Jim frowned. "You're really upset over something. Can you pin it down?" He reached up to stroke the worry lines from Blair's face. 

"That's just it," Blair said, sighing. "Empathy isn't like a compass that can point you toward the emotions that you're feeling. Generally, there's a positive atmosphere here. The guides seem actually excited about the idea of getting started with their training. But there's something else here too, something dark and discontented... I just can't put my finger on it." 

"How are your shields? Maybe you should try reinforcing them," Jim suggested. 

Blair shook his head again. "My shields are fine, but this... whatever... is getting through anyway." 

"Maybe we ought to just call it a day and go home." Jim studied his guide's face and was concerned at the shadows he saw swirling in the depths of the dark, blue eyes. 

"No. No, I'll be all right," Blair said, straightening. "The guides are all expecting their first lessons to begin this afternoon. I'm sure everything will be fine." 

Jim gave Blair one last searching look before nodding. "It's your call, Babe. I just don't want you overdoing it if you're not feeling well." 

"I'm good." Blair smiled up at Jim "You don't need to worry about me." 

"Why don't you lie down and take a nap? I've got more of that infernal paperwork to wade through, and then I can take you out to lunch. How does that sound?" 

Blair released a sigh and nodded. "Yeah, okay. That might not be such a bad idea." 

"Can I get you an aspirin or something?" Jim asked as he pulled down the spread and blankets. 

"No, thanks. Aspirin wouldn't help. This isn't your ordinary headache," Blair said, bending over to take off his shoes. "You go on. I'll be fine." 

"Holler if you need me," Jim said, pausing in the doorway. He watched as Blair pulled the blankets up and closed his eyes, then reluctantly shut the door and returned to his desk. 

* * *

Blair had looked better at lunch, and Jim decided there was no good reason to try and talk him out of the afternoon's lesson with the guides. The former Guide Quarters had been turned into a classroom, and Jim watched as his guide immersed himself in his element. 

"Good afternoon. I hope that everyone here is ready to learn what it _really_ means to be a guide." Blair looked out over his students, surprised to see an empty front row seat. "Can someone tell me what has happened to Linda?" 

A young man in the second row raised his hand. When Blair acknowledged him, he spoke up. "She wasn't feeling too well after lunch. I think she may have gotten some bad tuna. She went to the infirmary for some medications." 

"All right; thank you," said Blair. "I'll go check on her after class. In the meantime, let's get started... 

"I'm well aware that under the Training Sentinels, you were taught that enhancing and extending a sentinel's abilities is your main function. As a practicing guide, I can tell you that is a secondary consideration. Your first and foremost duty is the protection of your sentinel. You are his backup when he's using his senses. You are his eyes when he uses his hearing. You are his ears when he uses his sight. 

"The most important thing you need to protect against is a zone-out. Zone-outs occur when a sentinel concentrates too strongly on the use of just one sense. It is your duty to make sure that your sentinel has at least two senses engaged at all times while he is working. 

"If your sentinel zones, it is imperative that you know how to bring him out. As I mentioned in my opening speech this morning, a zone-out is somewhat like a coma. The sentinel gets so lost in the sense he is using, that he becomes locked inside his own mind. Some zones go so deep as to affect the autonomic nervous system, suppressing breathing and heartbeat. 

"The guide's job is to lead the sentinel back to reality. The easiest way to gain access to the sentinel's mind when a sexual union is impractical, as in fieldwork, is to make some other physical union. Grasping an arm is good. You then must go into the sentinel's mind and lead him back out. Engaging a sense other than the one that caused the zone can be useful as well. If the sentinel was using his sight, speak softly - lower your voice, both in volume and register; make the sentinel _work_ to hear you. Make him use his enhanced hearing. Your voice is your most important tool, next to your ability to gain entrance to the sentinel's mind. 

"Once you have brought your sentinel back, he may be disoriented. Help him remember where he is and what he was doing before the zone. Let him know that he zoned..." 

Jim started when Abernathy tapped him on the shoulder. His concentration had been so fully on Blair, that he had failed to notice the approach of the former Warden. "Sir? You're needed in the infirmary." 

"What's going on?" Jim asked as he turned to follow Brad down the hall. 

"I don't know, exactly," Brad told him. "I think it has something to do with the medical allowance in the budget. Doctor Fletcher wanted to have a word with you." 

"I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be rid of this damnable budget," Jim complained as they approached the infirmary. 

Brad nodded in agreement. "I'm with you. I'm just glad it's your headache now, and not mine." 

_A half hour earlier:_

Linda made her way down the corridor to the infirmary. Her stomach was in knots; she'd already vomited once since lunch. She pushed through the door and stopped, looking around. 

Doctor Fletcher came out of a back room and smiled at the empath. "Hello. May I help you? Are you feeling ill?" He approached the young woman who stood frozen near the entrance of the infirmary. 

"I-I feel sick to my stomach," Linda replied, an arm crossed over her abdomen. 

Doctor Fletcher gently clasped her free arm and led the guide into one of the small, private exam rooms. "Tell me, what symptoms have you been experiencing, and how long have you had them?" 

Linda pulled herself up onto the exam table and unbuttoned her blouse, allowing the doctor to listen to her heart and lungs as she spoke. "I've been nauseated since lunch." 

"What did you have to eat?" Fletcher asked as he helped her to lie down so that he could continue checking her over. 

"A tuna sandwich, a bag of chips, and an apple," she said, fighting back the urge to be sick as the doctor poked and prodded gently at her stomach. 

"Have you felt the urge to vomit?" 

Linda nodded, covering her mouth as she gagged. Fletcher quickly grabbed a nearby emesis bowl and rolled the guide onto her side. Once her stomach was emptied, she rolled over onto her back. "I threw up about ten minutes before I came here, too," she added, wiping her mouth with the tissue the doctor provided. 

"It looks like mild food poisoning," Fletcher said. "Nothing serious, but not pleasant, either. Why don't you rest here for a bit? I'll come check in on you from time to time. I'd like to make sure that you don't become dehydrated or suffer from any complications." 

"Okay." Linda accepted the blanket and the bottle of water that the doctor provided, and closed her eyes. 

Doctor Fletcher left, turning out the lights and pulling the door nearly shut, leaving it cracked so that he could hear his patient if she called out for him. He looked up as the infirmary door opened a second time, admitting four of the former training sentinels. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, approaching the group. 

"There seems to be a minor epidemic of food poisoning in the cafeteria," Dennis Mayhill said, gesturing toward the door. "I think you'd better grab some supplies and go check it out." 

After the doctor had gone, Mayhill turned toward his fellow conspirators. "Now the fun begins." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 

"D-Do you think the poisonings will be enough to keep the doctor away until we're done?" Ted Sykes asked nervously. 

Chet Quigley scoffed at his timid companion. "Don't worry. This isn't going to take long. Besides, when the Doc can't find anyone left in the cafeteria, he'll go check out other locations, just to be safe. He's too thorough for his own good, sometimes." 

"Where's Abernathy?" Al Pedersen asked. "Shouldn't he be here by now?" 

"Have a little patience," Mayhill cautioned. "He's on his way." 

* * *

Brad pushed the door to the infirmary open and ushered Jim inside. Jim looked around, seeing only the other training sentinels present. 

"Where's Doctor Fletcher?" Jim turned suspiciously toward Abernathy. "I thought you said he wanted to discuss the budget." 

"He had to step out for a minute," Quigley informed the Warden as the group slowly circled the now-wary sentinel. 

Jim tried to push through the men surrounding him to reach the door. "In that case, I have work to do. I'll come back later." 

Several sets of hands clasped him from behind, halting his progress. "I don't think so," Abernathy sneered, coming to stand in front of the Warden. "We have a little business of our own to transact." 

"What sort of busi..." Jim's question was cut short as a blinding pain impacted his skull and he collapsed, unconscious, to the floor. 

Al Pedersen slapped the billy club against the palm of his hand, a grim smile on his lips. "Let's get him out of here, before someone notices that he's gone." 

As the conspirators grabbed at Jim's unconscious body to carry him out, Linda crouched behind the door of her exam room. Peeking through the narrow opening, she got a brief glimpse of the five men as the door to the infirmary closed behind them. 

* * *

"As most sentinels tend to go into some form of law enforcement, it is my considered opinion that guides should have some special training from the Police Academy," Blair said, addressing the classroom full of empaths. "I intend to bring my concerns to the Police Chief within the next few days, in the hopes that all of you will have an opportunity to be trained in such areas as police procedures, self-defense, and firearms." 

"Would we be expected to carry a gun if we had the firearms training?" one of the guides asked. 

"No. I wouldn't expect it to be mandatory, although it could be an option if both the sentinel and guide agree," Blair said. "Personally, I prefer to not handle firearms unless there's no other recourse." 

Another guide raised his hand. "Would we get badges? I mean, would we be full-fledged police officers?" 

Blair shook his head. "Not unless you completed the full academy train.... Gaaaaah!" Blair's arms shot up to wrap around his head as he crumpled to the floor in obvious pain. 

"Dr. Sandburg! Are you all right?" "What's wrong?" "Are you hurt?" The flurry of questions filtered through his pain as Blair fought to control the sudden onslaught. He felt hands lifting him, carrying him out of the room. By the time they'd reached the infirmary, Blair's headache had faded to a dull throb and he struggled to be put down. 

"You need to be checked out by the Doc," Gary said, reluctantly releasing his hold on the Training Guide. 

"I'm all right," Blair insisted as the group of empaths ushered him into the infirmary. 

"Just take a minute to let Doc Fletcher look at you," Mark added. He led the way over to a gurney that sat next to a wall and helped Blair to sit. "You just wait here." 

"So where is the Doc?" Callum asked. "It's not like him to be gone without even a tech left behind. 

"He was told there was a food poisoning epidemic." Linda's soft voice came from behind them. The group turned to look at her in surprise. 

"Linda! Are you okay?" Gary asked, concerned about his friend. 

"I still feel a little nauseated, but it's getting better," Linda answered. "Brad Abernathy and his group of loyal goons sent Doc Fletcher on a wild goose chase, and then they lured Warden Ellison here and knocked him out." 

"Knocked him out?" Blair's pain was suddenly secondary to its possible cause. "Did you see them? Where are they now?" He slipped off the gurney despite the protests of the guides who had brought him to the infirmary, and approached Linda. 

"I-I don't know," the young guide said, her mouth turning down in a frown. "I was sleeping in the exam room," she flung her arm backward to indicate the room she'd been in, "when I heard people arguing. It sounded like someone got hit, so I peeked out and saw Abernathy and his crew carrying the Warden out." 

"How long ago?" Blair asked. 

Linda's eyes went wide as she finally began to consider the implications. "Just a few minutes ago - no more than ten." 

Blair chewed his lip as he considered how far they might have gotten in that amount of time. "Did you see which way they went?" 

Linda shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." 

"It's all right." Blair took a moment to soothe the distraught empath. "It's going to be all right; we're going to find Jim." He looked around the office for a phone and quickly dialed the number for the Cascade PD's Major Crime Unit. 

_"Banks,"_ Simon answered. _"How may I help you?"_

"Simon! Jim's been kidnapped!" Blair all but shouted into the phone. "We have to find him; he's been hurt." 

_"How do you know he's been hurt?"_ the captain asked. _"Oh, never mind... How fast can you get your ass down here?"_

"I'm on my way," Blair said, hanging up the phone and making a beeline for the door. 

~oO0Oo~ 

His head throbbed in migraine proportions as he slowly opened his eyes to blackness. He fought through the headache to dial up sight, but to no avail. Nothing but darkness greeted his efforts. The cold of the bare concrete floor seeped through his skin, chilling his naked body. He rolled over onto his knees and braced himself against the wall as he cautiously stood up. He leaned heavily against the support, waiting until he was certain he could move without falling. 

He began to slowly map out his prison. Ten feet long and eight feet wide, the room consisted of a concrete floor and three concrete walls, the fourth wall being constructed of solid steel bars - a cage. There was nothing inside, except for him. Two vents near the ceiling let in fresh air, but were far too small to be any hope of escape. In the floor was a small drain. 

He shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. There was nowhere to sit, nowhere to lie, nowhere to stand that wasn't cold, artificial stone. He tried calling out, but his voice sounded hollow - echoing in the empty chamber. He quieted and dialed up hearing, hoping to overhear a conversation, a footstep, the whir of a fan, but nothing came to his ears. Where was he? And more importantly, where was his guide? Where was Blair? Was he safe, or was he also trapped in a dark, silent prison? 

Time meant nothing in such a featureless place. Jim spent the hours slowly making a circuit of his prison, feeling every inch of wall and floor, trying to find a weakness he might exploit to his advantage. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him as his battered body cried out for nourishment and rest. There was nowhere to lie down on the cold hard stone that wouldn't bring certain hypothermia to his already chilled body. Desperate, he squatted in the center of his pen and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him. 

He woke from a light doze a few hours later, his bladder aching to be emptied. Disgusted with the idea of dirtying his small cage, he went to the bars and urinated as far as he could across the black expanse. The acrid smell of ammonia assaulted his nostrils, causing him to back away until he came in contact with the far wall of his prison. 

The soft _snick_ of a lock sounded in the darkness and a bright light blinded him. Jim raised his arms to protect his eyes. "Who's there? Where am I?" he called out to the shadowy figures behind the light. A forceful stream of ice-cold water from a fire hose cut his questions short. He was pinned against the wall of his prison by the pressure, drenched from head to foot by the freezing stream. He tried to escape, to move away from the blast of water, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. As quickly as it had come, the spray was gone, leaving him with nothing but the soft sound of the water as it swirled down the drain. Quaking with cold, Jim did his best to dry himself with his hands, but his last reserves were quickly abandoning him. He sank to the floor, heedless of the aching cold as he leaned against the concrete wall and unconsciousness claimed him. 

When he awoke, he was stiff, every muscle aching in protest. His arms and legs were numb. Despite the effort it took, he stood and began to stamp his feet, shaking his arms to get warmth and circulation back into the tortured limbs. His stomach growled and he felt light-headed, but he ignored the discomforts as he once again allowed his senses to expand, trying to see or hear anything that might help him to escape his stygian prison. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair sat with his hands folded in his lap, trying to reign in his impatience. "We have a witness. We know at least one of the people responsible - Brad Abernathy." 

"Do you have any idea why this Abernathy would have a grudge against Jim?" Simon asked. 

Blair shook his head. "Jealousy, maybe? Brad was the Interim Warden before Jim took over. He has also been at the Facility a long time. I remember him from when I was sent for my retraining. He's not taking too well to the changes Jim and I are instituting." 

"Have you ever heard him threaten Jim in any way?" 

"No. He's always been outwardly helpful, doing everything he's been asked. But I've always had an uncomfortable feeling around him. Like something wasn't quite the way he wanted it to look," Blair said, confessing to the feelings that had been nagging at him for days. 

Joel stuck his head into the office, a sheaf of papers in his hand. "Thought you might like to know.... There's no criminal record for Brad Abernathy. He's worked for the Guide Training Facility for almost ten years. He's been passed over for promotion twice because of his bad temper, but there have been no disciplinary actions against him." 

"Come on in," Simon said, waving a hand. 

Joel stepped into the office, glancing down at the seated guide. "I'm really sorry this happened, Blair. We'll find Jim, don't you worry." 

"I want to help," Blair said, looking up at Simon. 

Simon shook his head. "You don't have any formal police training, and with Jim gone... I'm sorry, Blair, but it's just too dangerous. Jim would never forgive me if I let you get hurt again." 

"Pair me with Joel, or Megan," Blair begged. "I'm going to be a part of this, one way or another." 

"We put out an APB on Abernathy's car," Joel interjected. "A silver-gray Celica, Washington license plate number TMM 527." 

"You won't find him without me," Blair insisted. "I have a connection with Jim through our bond. I'm in his mind." 

"What's he thinking? Can you give us any clues to where he's being held?" Joel asked, excited at the prospect that Blair might be able to lead them to the missing Warden. 

"I can't read his mind, I'm not a psychic," Blair explained. "But I can get general impressions. I think the reason my head hurt so badly was because Jim was hit in the head to knock him unconscious." 

"Is he awake yet?" Simon asked. 

"I think so. I'm not getting much; the connection is weak. I sense confusion, disorientation... darkness. I'd swear they're keeping Jim in the dark somewhere, probably to confuse his senses." Blair sighed. "It's not like radar. I can't point you in the right direction, but if we can get a possible location, my connection should get stronger if I'm in close proximity." 

"All right, I'll tell you what," Simon said, coming to a decision regarding Blair's involvement. "You let us do the footwork. We'll do the interviews, check out any leads, and when we have something positive, we'll call you in to be there to lead us to Jim." 

"I need to do something now," Blair insisted, unconsciously wringing his hands in his lap. "Jim is hurt and disoriented, he could slip into a zone-out -" 

"Blair," Simon got up and came around his desk to squat next to the distraught guide. "There's nothing at this point for you to do. Until we get some good leads, that connection of yours isn't going to be a whole lot of help. If we can get you near to the location where they're holding Jim, you might be able to lead us in. Until then, why don't you go home, take some time off, and get some rest. You look like hell." 

"I dunno, Simon... I don't think I _can_ rest with Jim out there." Blair sighed, the sound shuddering from a throat constricted by unshed tears. "He needs me." 

"Come on, kid; I'll take you home," Joel offered. "Simon's right, you look like you're about to fall apart." He gently slipped a hand beneath Blair's elbow and helped to lift the unresponsive guide to his feet. "I'll see to it that he's settled," the detective told his captain. 

"Maybe stay with him until he gets to sleep," Simon suggested. "He's no good to Jim or himself in his current condition. You hear me, Blair? Get some rest!" The captain patted Blair's shoulder reassuringly as Joel steered him toward the office door. 

~oO0Oo~ 

_Blackness. Dark against dark. Cold... cold and hard. Exhaustion. Can't sleep; can't sleep._

Blair tossed and turned as the dark dream gripped his restless slumber. His eyes flew open and he stared at the skylight. It was night. Clouds covered the stars and Blair could see nothing but the blackness above him. Chilled to the bone, he wrapped the blanket around him and pulled it from the bed as he made his way downstairs to the shower. 

Turning on the water, Blair waited until the steam billowed out in a moist cloud. Stepping under the hot spray, he let it warm his skin. He tilted his face up, letting the water sluice down his hair and over his body. 

Despite the heat that turned his skin red, Blair shivered, the remnants of the dark dream still holding a grip on the edges of his mind. Jim was suffering. Jim was somewhere dark and cold, injured and held against his will. Blair knew he wouldn't be able to rest until Jim was found. 

Stepping out of the shower, Blair wrapped Jim's robe tightly around his body, drinking in the scent of his lover. He padded barefoot into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair awoke with a start the next afternoon. The weak October sun shone through the glass doors that led out to the balcony and caressed the weary guide where he lay on the couch. An unfinished mug of coffee sat next to the empty pot on the coffee table. Blair ran a hand through his unruly mop of curls, which had dried in a disheveled tangle after his shower the night before. He still wore nothing but Jim's bathrobe, while the blanket he had brought down with him now lay on the floor. 

At some point during the night, exhaustion had caught up with the worried guide, forcing Blair into a dreamless sleep from which he was just now waking. He blinked back the fuzziness in his mind and shuddered over the feeling of dread that still permeated ever fiber of his being. 

He pushed up from the couch and forced himself back up the stairs to get dressed. His mind was reeling with the snapshots of sensation he had sensed from Jim: the darkness, the cold, the unforgiving stone... imprisonment. It had to mean something. If he could only put it all together, Blair knew he would be able to find where Jim was being held. 

Locking the door to the loft, Blair headed down to the parking lot behind their building and climbed into his Corvair, Jim's gift to him on his last birthday. He remembered how excited he had been to have his own transportation, especially since getting to and from the University by bus had been so problematical for the perpetually late professor. He had driven it all around town, discovering parts of the city he hadn't even known existed. Jim had pointed out areas of interest, including the condemned Stanholm Prison, which had been closed years before. 

The prison had once been a small, maximum-security lockup for the worst of the state's prison population. Mass murderers and serial rapists spent their last days in lockdown there, before their appointment with the hangman's noose. The archaic practice made Blair shudder. While he was certain those condemned to die deserved no better, he still preferred the clean and relatively painless method of lethal injection. 

Jim had described the prison to him - the stone and concrete walls and floor had made escape virtually impossible. The solitary confinement cells had been the worst of all. Three walls, the floor, and the ceiling made of concrete, with cold iron bars locking the prisoner in the featureless cage. To get to the cell, you had to pass through an outer room, closing the door behind you before entering the prison room. The world of the prisoner was total darkness in a virtually soundproof environment. Men didn't stay there long before they began screaming just to hear their own voices. 

"Oh, God..." Blair stepped down on the gas, peeling out of the parking lot and heading downtown toward the police station as fast as he could drive, heedless of the laws he was breaking along the way. Without the patience to wait for the elevator, Blair pounded up the stairs until he reached Major Crime. Breathless, he burst through the door into Simon's office. "I think I know where they're holding Jim!" 

~oO0Oo~ 

Hours passed, or perhaps days; Jim couldn't tell in the near-perfect darkness. His sense of time had long ago slipped away. He paced the length of his prison, briskly rubbing his hands over his body to keep the circulation and warmth in his skin. His teeth chattered and he was having trouble thinking. He knew that he was on the razor's edge of hypothermia. He must keep moving, must stay awake, or he would surely slip into a sleep from which he would never awaken. 

The sound of a lock and the scrape of a door echoed loudly in the empty cell. Jim covered his ears against the pain the cacophony produced and turned toward its source. A bright light was directed at his face, blinding his sensitive vision with a white-hot glare. Footsteps approached. There was a hiss of air just before a searing pain impacted his chest, stealing his breath for a moment. 

"What did you do with the body?" 

Jim shook his head, not entirely certain he had heard correctly. "Wha...?" he started to ask. Another swish of air caught his hearing an instant before a club connected with the small of his back, sending him to his knees. 

"Don't play dumb with us. We know you're responsible. Where did you hide the body?" 

Jim squinted into the bright light. "I don't know what you're talking about." Another blow struck his abdomen, doubling him over until his forehead touched the floor. 

"Pick him up." 

Two pair of strong hands gripped Jim under his armpits and lifted him to his feet. Blows began to rain down on his body, ripping grunts of pain from the tortured sentinel. 

"Careful, Brad! If you beat him unconscious, he won't be able to tell us anything," a second voice said. 

"There's nothing to tell," Jim spat from bloodied lips. Still blinded by the intense light, he struggled weakly against the hold the two men had on his body. 

"Well, I think there is. Warden Cervinski's body has never been found, and I believe you know exactly where it is." 

"How do you..." Jim began, gasping for breath between words, "know that Cervinski is even dead?" 

"The Warden would never leave this job and just disappear. He hurt your precious guide, and you took care of the problem. Now, tell me where you buried the body!" 

"Go to hell." Jim's words were soft and as cold as his body. "I'm not telling you anything." 

"We'll see about that." 

The next blow hit Jim's left knee with a resounding crack. " _Ahhhhhhhh..._ " Jim couldn't contain the cry of pain. "Oh, God..." He sunk into the strong hands holding him up, forcing them to bear his weight. He tried to dial down his sense of touch, but without his guide, and with his body already weakened, he had no control over his expanding senses. He grunted with each fall of the club, feeling the blood ooze under his skin forming the bruises that covered his body. 

"If you won't tell us where you put Cervinski," the disembodied voice of Brad Abernathy continued, "just confess that you killed him." 

Using his hearing to guide his aim, Jim spit at the voice. "Never. You can't make me admit to anything." 

Unseen in the darkness behind the floodlight, Brad wiped the spittle from his face. "Let him go," he ordered his fellow conspirators, his voice as cold as the stone walls of Jim's prison. Without the support for his injured knee, Jim collapsed to the floor. Abernathy walked over to the supine man, towering above him, slapping the billy club against his palm. "If you won't admit to your crimes," the ex-Warden said slowly, "then we'll just have to exact our own punishment; something fitting." He lifted his right foot and stepped down on Jim's genitals, grinding the delicate flesh beneath the sole of his boot. 

The pain burst like fireworks behind Jim's eyes. The agony of his broken knee faded into the background in the midst of this new onslaught. He writhed on the unforgiving, cold concrete, unable to escape the excruciating torture of his manhood. 

Without warning, the ordeal ended and the light went out. Left in near total darkness, Jim listened as the footsteps retreated and the door was closed and locked. 

Pain overrode all his other senses - the pain in his knee, the pain of his crushed testicles. Jim struggled to stay conscious despite the horrific torment of his body, struggled to extend his other senses in an effort to lower his physical sensitivity, struggled to fight away the impending darkness in his mind. But without his guide to stabilize and strengthen him, Jim felt himself spiraling out of control, spinning his way into the mental darkness of a full zone-out. 

"...blairrrrrr... help me..." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Stanholm Prison?" Simon looked up at Blair as though the young guide had lost his mind. "That place has been condemned for seven years! Are you sure?" 

"Hell, no, I'm not sure!" Blair said, leaning heavily on Simon's desk as he caught his breath. "It's just a feeling, an impression. Jim's being held somewhere dark and cold, someplace with a lot of stone or concrete. I remember him telling me about the prison once, and his description of the isolation cells matched the images I've seen in my mind. We have to try!" 

"All right," said Simon, standing and grabbing his coat off the rack. "I suppose it can't hurt to check it out." 

"We'll need backup," Blair told him. "The witness said there were several men, four or five altogether." 

"I'll call for backup when we're closer," Simon promised. "You'll be able to tell if this is the place when we get there?" 

"Jim's presence will grow stronger in my mind the closer we get," Blair confirmed. "I'll know if it's the place before we have to go in." 

"All right, then. What are we waiting for?" Simon led the way through the bullpen, his long strides making Blair almost have to jog to keep up. 

As they drove through the city streets toward the edge of town where the prison was located, Blair lowered his shields and opened himself up to Jim's emotions. "He's scared, Simon. Jim doesn't scare easily. He can't see or hear anything, and he's cold, so cold." Blair shivered and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill. 

"We're almost there," Simon assured the guide. "If he's there, we'll find him." Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of an iron gate set in a stone wall - the entrance to the abandoned prison. The guard booth to the left of the gate stood empty, the door askew, hanging from a broken hinge. 

"He's here, somewhere," Blair said with confidence, searching the grounds as best he could from their position. " _Argggh_!" The guide covered his ears by wrapping his arms over his bowed head. "Damn! _Ohhhh_ , shit!" One arm flung across his eyes. 

"Blair?" Simon turned to the young man, concern written in the wrinkle of his brow. "What's wrong? What's happening?" 

"...jim..." Blair's voice was strangled and weak. "God!" He crumpled over, grabbing his middle. Taking deeps breaths to get control, Blair turned and grabbed Simon's arm, clinging like a drowning man to a life preserver. "They're hurting him; they're hurting Jim! We've got to get in there, now!" 

Simon reached for his radio and barked the call for backup. "It'll just be a few minutes, Blair. Hang on." 

"I'm not so sure Jim has a few minutes," Blair gasped, rebuilding his shields and pulling back to the fringes of Jim's mind. "I'm going in there." 

"You can't go in alone," Simon insisted, tugging on Blair's sleeve as the guide opened the passenger side door in an attempt to leave. 

"Then come with me," Blair growled, shrugging off the hold and jumping out of the car. "Either way, I'm going!" He started up the long drive on foot, breaking into a jog as he neared the prison complex. 

Pushing through the heavy doors, Blair entered the receiving room of the prison. His head swiveled as he looked around, taking his bearings in an effort to locate the isolation cells. Simon came to a stop behind him, puffing with the effort of the run to catch up with the determined guide. Gun drawn, he stepped up beside Blair. 

"Where are the isolation cells?" Blair asked, glancing up at the captain. 

Simon nodded to their left and began to jog down the corridor with Blair on his heels. The guide stumbled, grabbing at his left knee. 

"Blair? What's the matter?" Simon asked, stopping to grab Blair's arm in support. 

The guide shook his head before gasping. "It's all right, Simon. It's just a twinge." 

"Jim?" the captain asked, frowning when Blair nodded curtly. "Come on, the cells we want are this way." 

Blair grunted several more times before stopping. Breathing heavily, he bent over, his hands braced on his knees. "Just give me a minute, Simon." Closing his eyes, Blair slowly withdrew completely from Jim's mind. "Forgive me, my sentinel. We're coming. We're coming; I promise." He looked up at the captain. "I'm okay; take me to Jim." 

The isolation cells were at the far end of the prison, toward the back. As they rounded a corner, they observed four men exiting a cell in the center of the block. 

"Freeze! Cascade Police!" Simon shouted, gun drawn. In the blink of an eye, four guns were pointed back at the captain and Blair. 

Brad Abernathy sauntered out of the cell, a smug grin on his face. "You didn't think we'd be that easy to take, did you? Put down your weapon." When Simon didn't waver, Abernathy tried again. "You're already too late. Ellison paid for his crimes and now, I'm afraid, you'll have to meet a similar fate. Three for three; it's a fitting retribution." 

"You hurt Jim." Blair's voice was low and menacing. 

"What are you going to do about it, _guide_?" Abernathy sneered. "You're outnumbered, and out gunned. Pretty soon you and your fellow guides will all be naked again, the way you were meant to be!" 

"No." The single word was as cold as the stone of the prison. Blair turned to Simon. "We can't wait any longer." 

"Abernathy's right," Simon whispered. "It's a standoff right now, and we're outnumbered until our backup arrives. There isn't anything we can do." 

"Listen to your betters, _guide_. Now, get over here." Abernathy jerked his head, indicating he wanted Blair to approach. 

"Stay put," Simon ordered, his gun never wavering from its aim. 

Blair had already begun to walk forward. He slowly closed the gap between himself and the former Warden. "Jim can't afford to wait for backup," Blair shot over his shoulder. He turned to Brad. "You think you're so smart. You think you know so much. You think you're better than us." He continued to stalk forward, stopping about six feet in front of the sentinel. "It's time you learn the truth - _sentinels_ are the slaves. It's you who are dependent on us!" He flung out his left arm, sweeping past the four men with the guns. One by one, each man dropped in his tracks, unconscious. "You hurt the man I'm sworn to protect," Blair growled, "and now it's your turn to pay." 

Abernathy backed off, turning to bolt toward his freedom at the far end of the cellblock. He only got about halfway before he collapsed in a heap on the cold, concrete floor. 

There was a flurry of noise and activity as the backup patrols finally arrived to take the men into custody. "Where's Ellison? Is he all right?" Joel asked Simon as the last of the unconscious men were being carted out. 

Simon looked around. The cellblock was empty. "He's in there," he said, leading the way to the middle of the row of cells. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair knelt down in the semi-darkness next to Jim. He reached out, gently laying a palm against the cold face. "I'm here, Jim, just like I promised. Everything's going to be okay, you'll see." He blinked back his tears, devastated by the sight of his sentinel's battered body. Gentle fingers drifted over the bruised flesh as Blair opened himself to Jim's pain. 

When Simon and the medics arrived in the cell, Blair was sprawled across Jim's body, unconscious. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair's eyes blinked open and he looked around the cubicle. Simon sat in a chair next to his bed, reading a magazine. "Hey, Simon. Where are we?" Pushing up on his elbows he quickly answered his own question. "Shit! The hospital. Where's Jim? I've got to get to Jim!" 

Simon stood up and pressed Blair back down onto the bed. "Don't worry about Jim, he's still in surgery." Simon spoke softly. "You had me worried there, kid. One minute you were breathing fire at Abernathy and his gang, the next you were out cold, draped over Jim's body. What gives?" 

"I-I was just trying to find out how badly injured he was," Blair explained. "The pain... was incredible." 

"The doctor said there was nothing physically wrong with you, but she wants to see you conscious before she lets you go," Simon informed the young man. "I'll go see if I can find her. You stay put." 

Blair let his head drop back onto the pillow, his fists balling and unballing in the sheets as he waited to be released. Ten minutes later, Simon returned with the doctor. 

"Well, well... it's good to see you awake. My name is Ming Li," the Asian woman introduced herself. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine," Blair growled anxiously. "I need to be with Jim; may I go now?" 

"Who is 'Jim'?" Doctor Li asked, pulling out her stethoscope to begin her examination. 

"Jim Ellison," Simon clarified. "The sentinel who was brought in with injuries a couple of hours ago. He's still in surgery," he explained. 

"Oh, I see. You are his guide?" Li inquired as she continued to check Blair over for any signs of obvious trauma. 

"Yes! He needs me," Blair insisted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

Doctor Li wrapped the stethoscope back around her neck and eyed the disgruntled guide. "I can't see any reason to keep you here. You seem fine," she said. "If you'd like, I'll check on the status of the surgery and get back to you. You may go wait in the surgical reception area." 

"Thanks." Simon steered Blair toward the bank of elevators to their right. The doors to the nearest elevator slid open just as they arrived and the two men slipped on board. Simon punched the button for the fourth floor as he kept a watchful eye on Jim's guide. "He'll be all right. He's got great doctors..." 

"He was in a deep zone, Simon!" Blair interrupted as they stepped off the elevator and walked over to the waiting area. "In a state like that, it's uncertain how well anesthetics work. It can be dangerous to try to give a zoned sentinel any kind of drug. He could wake up in the middle of surgery -" 

"They have sentinel specialists here," Simon reminded him. "I'm sure they're doing everything they can to ensure that Jim gets the best care." 

"I'm the only one who can help with the zone," Blair said softly, sinking into one of the hard plastic chairs. "Jim needs his guide to lead him back..." With his elbows propped on his knees, Blair let his head drop into his hands. Simon's hand massaged his shoulders as they waited to hear the outcome of the surgery. 

Ming Li approached and lightly touched Blair's shoulder. "Guide?" When Blair looked up, the doctor could tell that he'd been crying. "The surgery is nearly over. Your sentinel is doing fine. The surgeon will come talk to you soon, all right?" Blair nodded. "All right. If you need anything before then, the nursing staff will be happy to help in any way that they can." With that, the doctor gave Blair's shoulder a final pat and headed off down the hall. 

Twenty minutes later a doctor in surgical garb came walking toward the waiting area. "Jim Ellison?" he asked as he approached. 

Blair jumped to his feet, followed a bit more slowly by Simon. "I'm Jim's guide. How is he?" 

"I'm Doctor Powell. Sentinel Ellison came through the surgeries just fine..." the doctor began. 

"Surgeries? Plural?" Blair interrupted. 

"The main surgery was on his left knee," Powell explained. "The bone was shattered and the ligaments torn. We had to do a total knee joint replacement. It should be fine, but Mr. Ellison will have a hospital stay of at least ten days to two weeks." 

"The other surgery?" Simon asked, beating Blair to the punch by a fraction of a second. 

"Well... that was a less complicated, but no less serious. One of Mr. Ellison's testicles was crushed and we had to remove it. We replaced it with a saline implant." 

Blair paled. "Oh, God..." He sank back into his chair, shaken by the news. "Is he...? Will he...?" Blair hardly knew what it was he wanted to ask. 

Powell smiled with understanding and sympathy. "He's going to have a painful recovery; his penis and scrotum were badly mangled. However, I do believe that his right testicle will recover and that Mr. Ellison will remain fertile and potent. 

"My biggest concern at the moment is the zone-out. We had an anesthesiologist monitor the entire surgery, but Mr. Ellison was never given any drugs. That he could remain so deeply unconscious during three hours of intensive surgery, has me worried." 

"May I see him? I can guide him back," Blair pleaded. 

"He's in recovery," Powell told the guide. "Once we're certain he's stable, we'll move him to a room in the Sentinel Ward." 

Blair tried again. "He won't wake up without my help." 

"You'd better let the kid see his sentinel," Simon told the doctor. "He isn't going to give up until he does." 

"All right, but only one of you can come in," Powell conceded. 

Simon helped Blair back to his feet. "Go on. You need to take care of him. I'll come visit later." 

Blair followed the doctor down the hallway to the recovery room. Inside, Powell pulled back a privacy curtain to allow Blair in, then closed it behind the guide. 

Blair approached the bed slowly, opening himself to Jim's mind. He rested one hand on Jim's forehead and stroked his other hand up and down Jim's nearest arm. He concentrated, trying to break through the darkness to find the man hiding within. "Come on, Jim. I know you're in there; c'mon, man, follow my voice. I'm here; I'll protect you. It's all right, you can come back now. Come on, Jim. Come on." Blair kept up the low drone of his voice, urging Jim out of the recesses of his own mind. 

Twenty minutes later, a nurse interrupted him. "I'm sorry, I need to check Mr. Ellison's vitals." 

Blair scooted out of the way, but refused to relinquish all physical contact with the sentinel. "I've worked too hard," he whispered. "I can't let Jim slip any further into the zone-out." 

"I understand." The nurse smiled at Blair and allowed him to keep a hand on Jim's arm. "This will only take a minute. If everything checks out, I'll recommend to the doctor that he be moved to his room." 

"A private room," Blair insisted. 

"I don't know if we have any private rooms available right now," the nurse said, "but I'll check." 

"Jim needs a private room. I don't care what you have to do... make it happen." Blair's voice rang with surprising authority. The nurse just nodded and quickly exited the room. 

"It's going to be all right, Jim," Blair said once they were alone. "We'll get you a private room - with a view of the park. You have to be here for a while because of your knee, so I want you as comfortable as possible. I'll be here; you can count on that. You couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to. And you might want to, before this is over. 

"Come on, Jim... give me a sign that you're coming back. I can't feel you, I can't hear you; it's as though I'm walking through a pitch black cave, man. It's spooky. I don't like it. I want you back." 

Blair paused and looked at the unresponsive man, then leaned over the bed and pressed his lips against Jim's, kissing him gently. He pulled away, disappointed when Jim didn't reciprocate. With a sigh, he sat back and closed his eyes, gripping Jim's hand lightly as he concentrated on their bond. Nothing but cold and darkness greeted him. 

The nurse returned with the doctor fifteen minutes later. "Hello, Blair," Doctor Crowley greeted the guide. "I'd say it's good to see you again, but considering the circumstances -" 

Blair roused from the attempted bonding and looked up at the doctor. "Can he be moved to a private room now?" 

"Yes, we have a room ready," said Crowley, smiling at the concerned guide. 

"Good, because I need to bond with Jim. It's the only way I'm going to be able to pull him out of this zone. He's gone too deep for me to talk him back." Blair stood and faced the doctor. 

"That would be impossible at this time," Doctor Crowley exclaimed, surprised by Blair's pronouncement. "For one, he's deep in a zone-out; for another, with the damage to his genitals, he's not going to be able to have an erection for several weeks, at best. He wouldn't be able to bond with you." 

"You don't understand," Blair said calmly. "I plan to bond with _him_." 

"I'm sorry, son, but it doesn't work that way," the doctor responded, placing a soothing hand on Blair's shoulder. "There's got to be another way." 

"You're wrong," Blair said, shrugging off the offending hand. "Jim and I have bonded many times with me on top. Just because it hasn't been done before, doesn't mean it can't be done." 

"But sentinels..." Crowley began, shocked by the thought. 

"Yeah, they've always had the upper hand. No sentinel before Jim would even think to let a guide do the fucking. That's why nobody else knows that the bond goes both ways. But now that we're in charge of the Training Facility, that's going to become common knowledge." Blair stood his ground, challenging the doctor. "We need to get Jim settled. The sooner I can connect with his mind, the better." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"How do you plan to do this?" Crowley asked after Jim had been transferred to a bed in his private room. 

"I think the only way would be to roll Jim onto his side and let me enter from behind," Blair said, analyzing the situation. 

"We'll need a sling to immobilize the left leg," Crowley commented. "Jim won't be ready to begin physical therapy until tomorrow morning. Also, he has a catheter, so you'll have to be careful not to dislodge that." 

"Movement isn't necessary to the bond," Blair explained. "All I need is the intimate physical connection. I'll be as gentle as possible." 

"It's important that Jim be brought out of this zone," the doctor agreed. "Unless you can do that, his recovery will be a moot point." 

"I can do it," Blair promised. "Just get Jim ready for me." 

* * *

Blair reluctantly stood back as two orderlies set up the sling and eased Jim onto his right side with his left leg supported by the contraption of metal and plastic. Once they'd left, Blair closed the door and began to disrobe. When he was naked, he began to stroke his cock, urging the apathetic organ to fullness. Opening the nightstand drawer, he found a tube of water-soluble lubricant and liberally coated his erection. 

Climbing onto the bed behind Jim, Blair settled himself as gently as he could, so as not to disturb the sentinel's comfort. He wrapped one arm over Jim's shoulder and slipped the other under Jim's neck and up around his chest to hug his bondmate to him. Slowly, he eased himself into the tight opening, pushing gently until he was completely buried inside the sentinel. Closing his eyes, Blair opened his mind. 

*Jim, it's time to come home, love; time to come back to me; tell me where you are, lead me to your hiding place; I know you hurt, I know you're cold, but I'm here to protect you now; you have nothing to fear; no one is going to hurt you anymore / blairrrr? help me; find me / lead me there, Babe; take my hand and guide me; it's dark, and I can't see... but you can; you can bring me to where you are, and I will guide you out / ...don't want to come out / you don't have to be afraid, Abernathy is gone, taken care of; he can't hurt you again... ever / ...here... / Jim! thank God! I'm here; I'm your light, your guidance; I'll be your protector; come with me now; follow my voice; follow me back to the light* 

"...blair...?" 

"Oh, God!" The sound of Jim's voice toppled Blair over the edge of his orgasm, spilling his seed into the sentinel and sealing the bond. "Jim?" Blair reached up to gently stroke Jim's forehead. "Don't move, love. You were badly injured - your knee was broken; it's in a sling right now." 

Jim's eyes blinked open in the dim room and he strained to focus on his surroundings. "Where are we? This isn't our bedroom." 

"You're in the hospital, Jim," Blair said softly. "Everything is going to be fine, now. You were in a deep zone; the deepest I've ever seen. But now that you're back, the healing can begin." He started to ease his way out of Jim's body, but the sentinel stopped him. 

"No. Please, Blair... I-I feel safer connected to you." Jim covered one of Blair's hands with his own and tried twisting his head to see his guide. 

Blair stopped, and eased the semi-erect organ back into place. "It won't last long," he cautioned. 

"I know." Jim's voice was soft and small, so unlike anything Blair had heard before that it made him shiver. 

"Brad Abernathy and his goons are in custody," Blair assured his partner. "They're being charged with kidnapping, and assault and battery. I believe Simon said they were additionally charging Abernathy with attempted murder. The bail is way beyond what those guys are going to be able to post. They're not getting out any time soon." 

"That's good." Jim groaned and tried to curl up. 

Tears glistened in Blair's eyes as he stroked a gentle hand down Jim's arm and across his chest. "Oh, Jim, lover... no..." He stopped Jim's hand from reaching his groin. "Abernathy hurt you, but it's going to be all right. It's going to take time, but you'll heal. Feel me inside you, Babe. Right now, I'm all that you need. Dial down the pain, turn it way, way down... That's good. Good -" 

Jim nodded and Blair continued to stroke his partner's body gently with his hands. A knock at the door interrupted the fragile peace they had managed to achieve. "Come in," Blair called softly. 

Doctor Crowley entered the room and smiled when he saw that Jim was awake. "Welcome back, Sentinel Ellison. We were worried about you." 

"How bad?" Jim's voice was still weak. 

"Your knee was so badly injured that we had to do a total joint replacement," the doctor informed the sentinel. "A physical therapist will be in this afternoon to talk with you and do some initial flexibility testing. You'll have PT here in the hospital for about ten days, after which you'll continue the therapy at home." 

"How soon can I go back to work?" 

"Not for a while," Crowley cautioned. "You'll be released from the hospital when you can get around with crutches or a walker, but you shouldn't return to work for at least a couple of months, depending on how well you respond to the therapy." 

The doctor paused a beat before continuing. "There was also considerable damage to your genitalia. One testicle was crushed beyond recovery, and we've replaced it with an implant. That side will have less feeling. Other sentinels have described the sensation as 'dead meat', but I'm confident that it's something you can learn to live with. Outwardly, the appearance is perfectly normal. 

"You penis was badly bruised as well. Currently, it is swollen and tender, as you've no doubt noticed. You have a catheter for the time being. I suspect the swelling will be down enough to allow normal urination before you're discharged, but I wouldn't expect a return to normal sexual activity for several weeks. 

"In the meantime, if the pain becomes too much to handle, I've had a morphine pump set up." The doctor handed Jim the small remote. "Just press the button and you'll get a measured dose - enough to knock out the pain for an hour or two, at least. Don't worry, you can't overdose, so use it as you feel the need." 

"I need to be alert," Jim said, putting down the remote. "I don't do drugs." 

"You might feel differently when you try to sleep," said Crowley. "Don't dismiss it out of hand. The morphine can be very useful when used properly." 

"Thanks, Doctor Crowley," Blair said. "I'll see to it that he uses the medication if he needs it. What about diet? Does he have any restrictions?" 

"No. Order what you want. You missed the big lunch rush, but you should still be able to get sandwiches or snacks." 

"When can we expect the physical therapist?" As he continued to ask questions, Blair's flaccid penis finally slipped from the tight confines of Jim's ass. He quickly kissed Jim's cheek and began to slide off the bed. "I'll be right back, love." Unashamed, he walked naked into the tiny bathroom to wash his groin before coming out and pulling on his clothes. 

Crowley watched, fascinated by the unconventional guide. Finally, he realized that he'd been asked a question. "I'll let Phil know that Jim is ready now. He'll most likely come by later this afternoon." 

"All right, thanks." Blair stepped around the bed to be on the side where Jim could see him. 

"I'll come see you later, Jim," said Crowley as he walked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

"You need to get back to the Training Facility," said Jim once they were alone. "We were just getting started -" 

"I'll call the mayor; have her appoint an Interim Warden," Blair said seriously. "I'm not leaving you. I promised, and I'm not going back on it just because you're awake and feeling dictatorial." 

"Dictatorial? _I'm_ dictatorial? You bossy little..." Jim reached out to grab Blair, but the guide skittered out of reach. "Ohhhhh..." Jim began to pant through the sudden pain in his groin and knee. "...God..." he groaned. 

Blair lunged forward and quickly pushed the button on the morphine pump. "Too much, too soon, Babe. You're still too weak to control your dials effectively at all times. This will help." 

"C'mere," Jim said as the drug rushed through his system, stemming the pain, but making him sleepy as well. 

Blair shuffled into Jim's arms, leaning over the bed to take as much pressure off the sentinel's injuries as possible. He aimed a kiss at Jim's temple, catching his ear instead. "I love you." 

"Love you, too. Call the mayor -" Jim fought to keep his eyes open as the drug overwhelmed his weakened defenses. 

"I will, don't worry. You sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Sandburg!" Simon stormed into Jim's hospital room. Blair could almost see the steam issuing from both ears. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" 

Blair rose from his seat at Jim's bedside and ushered the captain back out into the hallway. "Shhh, Simon, Jim's resting," he scolded. "What's up?" 

"What do you mean by offering the mayor Joel's services as the Interim Warden at the Facility?" Simon had both fists on his hips and used his superior height to menace the younger man. 

"I didn't offer her anything. I _suggested_ that Joel might be a good Interim Warden." Blair stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated. "So far, Jim's duties have been pretty much administrative - paperwork, organizing, stuff like that. The position doesn't require a sentinel to do it, but it does need someone sympathetic to what we're trying to achieve." 

"But Taggert? I've already lost Jim, now you expect me to give up another detective?" Simon growled. 

"Got any other suggestions, Captain?" Blair snapped back. "Joel was my first thought. We need someone with police or military background, and Joel has some paid leave coming if he wants to take it. Did you ask him?" 

"He's already clearing the cases off his desk; says he wants to come by and let Jim brief him before he goes in," Simon admitted with a sigh. 

"Great! I know Jim will rest easier knowing that he has someone like Joel watching the place for him until he can get back on his feet." 

Simon relaxed his stance, surrendering the argument. "How's Jim doing?" 

"I managed to get him out of the zone," Blair told the captain. "He was really withdrawn into his own mind and didn't want to come back, but I managed to convince him that everything would be all right. He's in a lot of pain right now, but at the moment he's sleeping off a dose of morphine." 

"Any predictions on when he'll be released?" Simon asked. 

Blair shook his head. "Ten days, at least. The physical therapist has to work with his knee, and Jim has to be able to get up and around before the doctor will send him home. After that, it could be a couple months before he's ready to go back to work." 

"Damn." Simon sighed and shook his head. "When would be a good time to visit?" 

"This evening, maybe? After dinner?" Blair suggested. "The PT is coming sometime soon, and the workout will most likely leave Jim needing another dose of morphine and another nap; after that, dinner. He should be awake for a while after that." 

"Okay. I'll come by then. Tell him to expect me later." 

"I will, Simon. Thanks." Blair reached out to clasp Simon's arm. The captain paused, allowing the touch for once. "I mean it - thanks. Without you, I wouldn't have found Jim in time." 

"He's important to me, too, Blair," Simon said softly. 

Blair let go of Simon's arm and watched as the captain turned and walked away. Pushing the door open, he went back into the dim room to sit beside Jim. 

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door, waking Blair out of a light doze. A young man entered the room, smiling at the guide. "Hi, my name is Phil Millhouse; I'm a physical therapist here at the hospital. And this is Sentinel Ellison?" he asked, coming around the far side of the bed. 

Jim still lay on his side, his left leg supported by the sling. "We're going to have to get him on his back, and get his leg out of this sling," Phil continued, easing the sleeping man over onto his back. "Can you give me a hand here? I need you to stabilize the leg while I remove the sling." 

Blair stood up and gently lifted Jim's leg while Phil unfastened the sling and moved it out of the way. After that, the therapist took the weight of the leg. "Shouldn't we wake him up?" Blair asked as Phil began to flex and extend the knee joint. 

"That isn't necessary at this point," Phil said. "I just need to get an idea of the current flexibility and range of motion that Sentinel Ellison has in his knee. Chances are, the pain will arouse him anyway." 

Jim groaned and both men turned their attention on him. "Hey, Jim; just relax. Your physical therapist is here," Blair explained. "I'm right beside you. I'll stay with you, help you control the pain." 

"Good afternoon, Sentinel Ellison. My name is Phil," the therapist introduced himself as he flexed Jim's knee once more. "I just need you to relax and let me do all the work here, all right? Today we're just getting an idea of where you're at, so that we'll know how to plan out your therapy. How does that sound?" 

"Grrrreat," Jim ground out through clenched teeth. 

"Let me know if what I'm doing is hurting," Phil said. 

"Fuck! Yes, it hurts!" Jim growled. 

Blair stroked Jim's arm soothingly. "Stay with me here, Jim. Don't think about the pain; just listen to my voice. I can see how much this is hurting. Just think of it this way - the more Phil works with you, the sooner you'll get to go home." 

Phil straightened Jim's leg and placed it back on the bed, pulling the covers up over the sentinel. "That's all I plan on doing today," he said. "But I would like to talk to you a bit about the course of your therapy." 

Jim grimaced, but forced himself to relax under Blair's gentle hands. "All right, just get on with it." 

"What are the criteria for Jim being able to go home?" Blair asked. 

Phil smiled at the guide before turning his attention to Jim. "Before I can give my okay for your release," he began, "you'll have to be able to get into and out of your bed without assistance, make it to the bathroom on your own, walk down the hall using your choice of crutches or a walker, and navigate a flight of steps. I know that sounds like a lot, but it's the bare minimum for getting around your own home. I'm assuming that Blair here lives with you?" 

"What do you think?" Jim answered, frowning at the therapist. 

"Ah, come on, Jim, give the guy a break. He's here to help," Blair said before turning to Phil. "Yeah, we live together. You don't have to worry about Jim being left alone after he's released." 

"Good. Well, to get to that point," Phil continued, "we'll have to work you hard every day. I figure twice a day, if you can manage." 

"Of course I can manage, if it means getting out of here!" Jim growled. 

"He doesn't much care for hospitals," Blair explained. 

"I can see that," Phil chuckled. "I'll come by tomorrow morning, then, and we'll get started. At first, we'll do much the same as today - I'll flex and extend your knee, passively working the larger muscles in your leg. It's going to be somewhat painful, especially at first, so I recommend a mild painkiller before we start. In a couple of days, I'll have you up on crutches and we'll go from there. How does that sound?" 

"Um, Phil..." Blair interjected hesitantly. 

"Yes, Blair? What is it?" 

Blair's face colored slightly. "Jim, he, um, he got hurt more than just his knee..." 

Phil smiled gently. "Yes, I've read the chart. I know about his other injury. I assure you, I'll be as careful as possible, but there's no avoiding some additional discomfort with the movements. I strongly suggest a half dose of morphine before my next visit, and it wouldn't hurt to have you present as his guide." 

"Don't worry, I'll be here," Blair promised. 

"You two done talking about me now?" Jim sounded irritated. 

"I'm finished for today," Phil said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning around eight o'clock? And then again around three in the afternoon; how does that sound?" 

"Anything that gets me out of here sooner," Jim told him. Once Phil had left, he let his head fall back on the pillows. "God, I'm glad he's gone." 

Blair lowered the rail on Jim's right side and climbed onto the bed, stretching out next to his partner. "Did it hurt much?" He laid a hand over Jim's heart and his head on Jim's shoulder. 

"Like you wouldn't believe," Jim said with a sigh. Having Blair beside him, touching him, holding him, seemed to drain the discomfort from his body and fill him with peace. "But it's better now." He tipped his head enough to plant a kiss on the top of Blair's curls. 

"I can't promise to not let anyone hurt you," Blair said softly. "But I _can_ promise to be here, to draw off as much of your pain as I can." 

"Don't do that, Sweetheart," Jim said, reaching up to ruffle Blair's hair. "I don't want you taking on my pain. It's _my_ pain; I'll deal with it." 

"I shouldn't have left you alone," said Blair, unshed tears choking his voice. 

"Now who is taking on the guilt of the world?" Jim said, his voice echoing the smile on his lips. "You always accuse me of taking the blame for everything. Looks like the tables are turned." 

"It's my job to be with you, to protect you, to watch your back. That's what a guide does... what a _good_ guide does." 

"And you're the best there is," Jim assured his lover. "We can't be together every minute, you know. We have responsibilities. Speaking of which, what's happening at the Training Facility?" 

"Joel is planning to take over as Interim Warden until you get back," Blair told him. 

Jim nodded. "Good. We need someone who will press forward and not try to turn things back the way they were. But what about the guides?" 

"What about them?" Blair asked, tipping his head up to look at Jim. 

"Who's going to train them if you're not there?" Jim reached over to brush some stray hairs from Blair's face and let his fingertips drift down the stubbled cheek. "You need to go back, do your job. There isn't anyone else qualified to do what you started." 

"Maybe later," Blair said, reaching up to take Jim's hand and twine their fingers together. "But right now, you need me here." 

Their lips met, and for a brief instant, their minds mingled. 

*my sentinel / my guide...* 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Good evening, Jim! You're looking better than the last time I saw you," Simon said, entering the hospital room. "What's wrong with Blair?" he asked, approaching the bed. The guide was curled up on the bed next to Jim; his eyes closed, his face drawn and tense. 

"He's being stubborn and willful, as usual," Jim commented, stroking curls damp with perspiration. "He's decided to siphon off some of my pain, or whatever it is he does." 

"You mean he can take your pain onto himself?" Simon asked, amazed again at the strength and capabilities of the unconventional young man. 

"He's an empath... yeah," Jim said, nodding. "I told him not to do it, but he thinks my getting kidnapped was his fault." 

"Why the hell would he think that?" Simon asked, puzzled. 

"Because he's got some old-fashioned notion that a guide needs to protect his sentinel every minute of every day. He had a class to teach, and I had my own work to do," Jim explained. "It just happened." 

Simon frowned. "Yeah, well... I have some news that ought to cheer him up - you too, for that matter." 

"Simon, what's wrong?" Jim asked, studying his captain's face. 

"Nothing... everything...." Simon waved away the thought. "Brad Abernathy was murdered earlier today. A guard found him with his throat cut. He didn't stand a chance - bled out in under a minute, according to the prison coroner." 

"Do they have any idea who did it?" Jim asked, feeling no sympathy for the cruel training sentinel. 

Simon shook his head. "Not a clue. It's being investigated, of course, but I don't think that anybody cares very much if the killer is caught." 

"Hear that, Sweetheart?" Jim cupped Blair's face in his hands and kissed the slack lips. "Come on, Babe, wake up." Blair blinked and slowly opened his eyes. "Did you hear Simon? Abernathy is dead." 

"Dead?" Blair knuckled his eyes and turned to look at Simon. "How? When?" 

"Earlier today; someone slit his throat," Simon filled in briefly. 

"Good riddance!" Blair said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He slipped off the mattress, but stumbled as his feet hit the ground. Simon caught him before he fell, and helped Blair to sit. "Thanks. C-Can you get me a glass of water, please?" 

Simon grabbed the pitcher and a glass, pouring some water for the guide. "Here you go. Jim tells me you've been helping him control his pain." 

"Jim doesn't like drugs," Blair said, as if it explained everything. 

Jim grinned. "That's his excuse, anyway." 

"Well, you _don't_ ," Blair argued. 

"Maybe not, but given the choice between morphine and you, I'd take the morphine," Jim said, not unkindly. "I don't like seeing you hurting like this." 

"I'm fine," Blair said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his tousled mane of curls. 

"So, how is the physical therapy going?" Simon asked, changing the subject and distracting the feuding couple. 

"It's going," Jim replied. "Actually, the therapist was in this afternoon, briefly. He put me through hell and then said we'd do it again tomorrow - twice." 

"Remind me to stay away," Simon said with a grin. "Knowing you, you'll be lucky if the therapist even wants to come back for the second session." 

"I'll make sure he behaves," Blair promised, earning a playful smack on the back of his head. 

"Joel said he'd like to come by tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it," Simon told the sentinel. "He needs you to brief him before he goes to take over the Training Facility for you. You do know that you're leaving me shorthanded, don't you?" 

"I know, Simon, and I appreciate it, really. Blair made a good choice when he suggested Joel to the mayor. I can't think of anyone I'd trust more with the job." 

"What time is your therapy in the morning?" Simon asked. 

"Eight o'fucking-clock," Jim grumbled. "What a way to start the day, huh?" 

"I'll tell Joel to wait until ten, then," Simon decided. 

Jim shook his head. "He can come by earlier, say nine," he said. "I doubt the therapy is going to last a full hour." 

"Ten is better," Blair interjected. "Or, maybe nine-thirty," he amended after getting a good look at Jim. 

"I'll tell him nine-thirty," Simon decided. "Is there anything I can get for you? Anything you'd like brought from home?" 

"No, thanks. I think I'm going to be pretty busy for the next few days," Jim said. "If I need something later, I'll let you know." 

"Sounds fair enough," Simon agreed. "Well, you look tired. I know it's been a really long day, for all of us. You get plenty of rest, and don't give the therapist too hard of a time, you hear me? I want you back on the job as soon as you can get your ass there." 

"Yes, sir!" Jim saluted and then held out his hand. Simon clasped it warmly and the two men smiled at each other. "Thanks for coming by." 

"Keep me informed on how you're doing. I'll come again when I can," Simon promised. "You take care, too, Blair. Don't overdo and wear yourself too thin. Jim needs you now, more than ever." 

"I know. I'll be careful. Good night, Simon," said Blair, waving to the departing captain. 

"Good night, you two," Simon called from just outside the door. 

Shortly after the captain had departed, a nurse came in with Jim's evening medications. She handed him the cup and some water to swallow the pills, and then quickly checked his vitals. "How are you feeling this evening?" she asked. 

"About as good as you might expect for someone who has had their genitals ground into a hard cement floor and a knee shattered," Jim replied conversationally. 

"If you need anything, just press the call button," the nurse said, ignoring the acerbic comment. 

"I've got everything I'm going to need right here," Jim said, reaching out a hand to Blair who clasped it warmly. 

"All right then; good night." The nurse exited, leaving the sentinel and guide alone. 

"At last! Think that's it for tonight?" Jim asked. 

Blair shrugged. "Until the next time. They come wake you up in the middle of the night to make sure you're sleeping well," he commented dryly. 

"I know what would help me to sleep well," Jim said, drawing Blair closer. He began to unbutton Blair's shirt, baring the fur-covered chest. 

"All right, but no more sex tonight," Blair said, stripping as he walked around the bed to climb up on Jim's left side. "Let's get you rolled over." He gently supported Jim's back as the sentinel carefully repositioned his weight, groaning as his mangled testicles shifted. Once Jim was as comfortable as he was going to get, Blair spooned up behind him, wrapping an arm over Jim's chest. 

The feel of bare flesh against his backside instantly soothed away the residual pain, and Jim found himself drifting into a dreamless sleep. 

_Five days later:_

"You're doing good," Phil said, watching as Jim slowly slid off the bed, balancing on a pair of crutches. "Don't put any weight on your left leg," he instructed. "Just see if you can get your balance here." The physical therapist stood on one side of Jim, while Blair stood on the other, poised in case the sentinel should start to fall. "Very good! That's great! Now, see if you can take a step or two." 

Jim carefully moved the crutches forward, then swung his good leg up to meet them, pausing to regain his balance; then another step, and another, until he had made his way across the small room to the bathroom. "Can I take a leak while I'm here?" he asked plaintively. 

"I don't think that would be such a good idea, Jim," Blair said softly. He lifted Jim's gown and lightly grasped the bruised penis. At Jim's sudden intake of breath, he let go. "That's what I mean. Doctor Crowley still has the catheter in, and you can barely stand to be touched." 

"I have to be able to pee before they'll let me go home," Jim insisted. "I can do this." 

"Not today, okay?" Blair said, helping to turn the stubborn sentinel away from the bathroom and back toward bed. "I think you've done enough for one day." 

"Blair's right," Phil added. "We've worked you pretty hard today. This is only the second time you've been out of bed. You're doing great, but even the best of us can only do so much. You need to take it easy. It _is_ possible to overwork yourself, you know. I wouldn't want to see you have a relapse after you've made so much progress." 

The two men helped Jim back up on the bed and Phil propped the crutches against the wall out of Jim's reach. "I'll see you again in the morning, eight o'clock sharp. We'll see if you're ready to walk out into the hall." 

"Thanks, Phil, see you tomorrow," Blair said, waving farewell to the physical therapist. "Wow, man, you did great!" Blair beamed with pride as he looked at his bondmate. "Another five days, and you'll be out of here, I just know it." 

"Can't be too soon for me," grumbled Jim. 

"Hey, I'm sorry about the bathroom thing," Blair apologized. "But I really think you should wait for Doctor Crowley to give you the okay on that." 

"The okay on what?" Crowley asked, stopping by for his afternoon rounds. 

"I want this catheter out," Jim said, shooting a withering glance toward Blair. "I can get to the bathroom now..." 

"With crutches and two people beside you to make sure you don't fall over," Blair shot back. "He's still awfully tender," he told the doctor. 

"Well, I think Jim is probably the best judge of that," Crowley said. "If you think you could comfortably use a urinal when it's inadvisable to get out of bed," he glanced knowingly at Blair, "then I think we could give it a try. If it proves too painful, we can always put the catheter back." 

"Thanks, Doc," Jim said, feeling smug until the doctor lifted his gown and lightly gripped his penis. "Oh, shit! Awwwwww..." 

"It's out," Crowley said, holding up the tubing. "There's a urinal in the top drawer of the nightstand. I'd suggest getting it out and putting it within easy reach. You may find you still have a little trouble with control, due to the tenderness of your penis. If you have any accidents, just ring the nurse and she'll see that you get clean sheets." 

"I'll manage," said Jim, watching as Blair got the urinal out and set it where Jim could grab it when necessary. 

"So, I take it there was more progress today with your knee?" The doctor walked around the bed to get on Jim's left and lifted his leg, flexing the knee joint. "Still a little stiff, but not bad for five days post operative. What did Phil have to say?" 

"He wants to see if I can make it out to the hall tomorrow," Jim said. "After that, I'll be cruising." He smiled. 

"Do I detect a desire to be rid of these four walls?" Crowley gestured around the room. "Our deluxe sentinel accommodations, best that we have." 

"No offense, but I'd rather be home," Jim said somewhat wistfully. "I think I'd recover faster there." 

"Don't abstain on my account," the doctor said with a chuckle. "If you're feeling up to it, there's no reason you can't bond with your guide - or he with you, as the case may be. I haven't been the doctor of sentinels all these years without learning something about their physiology. You _will_ heal faster with Blair's 'help'." 

"Hear that, Chief? Want to help me get out of here sooner?" 

"I don't know about sooner," Blair cautioned, "but I'll do my best." 

"There's a door hanger in the middle or bottom drawer," Crowley said. "Just put it on the door handle and close the door. You won't be disturbed while you're bonding, even for routine checks - hospital policy." 

Blair dug around in the drawers until he found the sign: _Do Not Disturb - Bonding in Progress_. "Cool," he said, smiling and nodding his head. "We'll have to give this a try." 

"I probably won't be back to check on you until tomorrow," the doctor said. "I've got a meeting to attend later this afternoon and a benefit function tonight. If you need more than a nurse's care, Doctor Powell is on call tonight." 

"The one who did the surgeries," Blair said, letting Jim know that his backup care was knowledgeable of his condition. 

"Thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow, then," Jim said, waving the doctor off. Once they were alone again, a wolfish smile curled his lips. "Why don't you try hanging out the sign?" 

"Think you're up to it, old man?" Blair teased. "You've had quite a busy afternoon." 

" _I'm_ not the one who's going to have to do all the work, hotshot," Jim growled. "Now, go hang out that sign." 

Obediently, Blair hung out the missive and closed the door tightly. As he walked back toward the bed, he began to shed his clothes, leaving a trail behind him. "This what you want, Sentinel?" the guide asked, turning a slow circle so that Jim could get a good look. 

"Touch yourself for me," Jim requested softly. "I want to see you get hard for me." 

Blair sucked on the fingers of his left hand, and then began to slowly stroke his cock, leaving wet streaks of saliva on the shaft. He closed his eyes and let his head tip back, long hair brushing the small of his back as his right hand brushed across his nipples, hardening them to tight peaks. 

Jim groaned at the sight, rubbing his hand across his own chest and feeling the response of his body to his guide. 

Blair let his right hand drop to caress his balls, while his left continued to coax the growing column of flesh. As his arousal grew, pearly drops of pre-come began to ooze from the small hole. Blair used his thumb to spread the natural lubricant over the redness of his swollen glans. Mewlings of pleasure escaped his full lips and he felt his cock pulse with his rising climax. 

"Come for me, Sweetheart," Jim said, his voice raw with need. "I want to watch you come." 

Picking up the pace of his strokes, Blair panted as his orgasm began to swell within him. Perspiration broke out all over his body, giving it a glowing sheen in the afternoon light. "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhh," Blair groaned, squeezing his cock until it turned purple. A white fountain of come shot into the air, arching to fall just short of Jim's bed. 

"Oh, Babe, you're so beautiful," Jim moaned as Blair sank to his knees. "Come here." 

Blair lifted his head to see Jim beckoning to him. Slowly, he managed to rise to his feet and stumble the rest of the way to the bed. He crawled up, curling up against his sentinel, feeling a strong arm wrap lovingly around him. "Later, my guide... we'll finish the bond later." 

With his guide so near, Jim found he didn't need the morphine to ease his pain. Concentrating on the gentle sound of Blair's breathing, Jim was lulled to sleep along with his spent and weary lover. 

Waking nearly two hours later, Jim found his bladder full. He attempted to reach across his sleeping guide for the urinal, but found his arm a bit too short to reach with Blair in his way. He shifted carefully, so as not to put pressure on his injured knee, and tried again. 

Blair stirred and blinked open his eyes. "'Morning, Jim." 

"Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty," Jim replied. "Hand me the urinal, please?" 

Blair's hand fumbled across the top of the nightstand until it encountered the requested item, and handed it to Jim. 

Carefully peeling down the blanket, Jim lifted his gown and tried to position the urinal. As he was still having trouble bending his injured knee, it was a long stretch. "Think I could get a little help here?" he asked softly. 

Blair sat up next to Jim and positioned the urinal. "You want to do this, or should I?" he asked, indicating the injured organ. 

"I'll try," Jim said, lifting his battered penis. He gritted his teeth against the pain, grateful that he was going to be able to finally control his own body functions again. "Shhhhh-iiit!" The expletive came out as a hiss as hot urine spilled into the container, burning the still-raw flesh. 

Blair took the urinal away and set it back on the nightstand. Carefully, he covered the bruised cock with his hand, stroking it ever so lightly. "You did it, man. That's great." 

"Hurt like hell," Jim groused, calming under the gentle touch from the empath. 

"Enough to want the catheter back?" Blair inquired, stretching out beside Jim and pulling the blankets back over them both. 

Jim shook his head. "Never! Anything's better than that damn catheter. I'll manage." 

"I know you will," Blair agreed. "Are you hungry? It must be near dinnertime." As he spoke, his stomach rumbled. 

"Not particularly," Jim admitted. "But it sounds like you need something. Maybe you'd better go take that sign off the door." 

"But we haven't bonded yet. I thought that's what you wanted." 

"I want you to have the strength to do it properly," Jim teased. "Now, go take that sign off the door and order yourself some dinner." 

"Only if you eat with me. How about some soup and crackers, at least?" Blair said, cajoling the stubborn sentinel. He reached for the menu in the nightstand drawer and began looking it over. "It's Friday; the soup of the day is clam chowder." He looked up at Jim for confirmation. 

"All right. Fine," said Jim, admitting defeat. "But you're having it, too." 

* * *

After dinner, Jim shifted onto his side, carefully positioning his leg and privates comfortably. Reaching a hand up, he stroked Blair's cheek before leaning in to capture the full lips. "I want you now," he said when they parted. "I need you to bond with me." 

"You're sure? Jim, this could hurt," Blair cautioned. 

Jim smiled and brushed a thumb across Blair's mouth. "You did it before and it was fine." 

"You were deep in a frickin' zone-out then. You didn't know any better," Blair reminded him. "Now you're going to feel every movement, and as sore as you are -" 

"When you're near me, touching me, the pain fades," Jim said softly. "You're an empath, my guide; you can't hurt me." 

"All right," Blair said, slipping out of bed and padding over to the door, where he hung out the Do Not Disturb sign once more. Walking back toward the bed, he paused about three feet away, his right hand poised over his cock. "Do you want to watch again?" Jim nodded, licking his lips in anticipation as Blair began to stroke the organ to fullness. 

His left hand came up, brushing through the mat of hair on his chest, pinching and rolling his nipples to hard little nubs. As Blair's cock started to swell, he sucked the first two fingers of his left hand to lubricate them, then squatted as he slipped them past his anus and began to finger-fuck himself. The action caused his cock to expand even more, until the flesh was stretched to its limit, purple with engorged blood and gleaming like a polished gun barrel. 

Jim was staring, his heart pounding, blood rushing to his nether regions where his penis throbbed with empathy, yet remained unresponsive. "Blaiiiiirrr, please -" he begged. "The bond -" 

Blair took a deep breath and withdrew his fingers, circling the bed to climb on behind Jim. He aligned his body with that of his sentinel, his cock pressing against the tight opening. "I love you, mine," he whispered possessively, showering kisses on Jim's neck and shoulder. 

"Bond, Guide!" the sentinel ordered. Jim tried to thrust his hips backward against the hard cock, but the movement caused lances of pain to his own injured organ. 

Responding to the primal command, Blair entered his bondmate, slowly sheathing the entire length of his cock. With a gentle motion, he began to rock, pulling out and pushing in with an easy rhythm. 

*I am here, my sentinel / you saved my life, my guide; now, you are healing me / you have saved me more than once; it was your love, your bond, that restored my empathic strength; it is because of you that I can help you now; together, we are stronger / together we will teach the world what it means to be a true partnership, to share our gifts equally / so long as we are together, my sentinel, no one will ever defeat us / I love you, my guide, my heart, my soul / and I you, always* 

Blair grunted as his thrusts deepened, coming harder and faster into the willing body of his sentinel. He cried out as his climax swept through him, collapsing on top of Jim in an exhausted heap. 

Jim sighed as the warm emotions of love and completion bathed him, washing away his pain and discomfort. Reveling in the feeling of fullness that still connected him with his guide, he closed his eyes to sleep. 

_Four days later:_

"This is absolutely amazing!" Phil said as he watched Jim take the last few stairs in the flight, to emerge back on the Sentinel Ward. "You've made tremendous progress in the past few days. There's still a lot of therapy and work ahead before that knee is healed and you can resume normal activity, but I'm going to let Doctor Crowley know that you have my leave to go home and continue your recovery there." 

"That's great news!" Blair exclaimed, thumping Jim on the back. "I knew you could do it." 

"With your help, Chief," Jim said, leaning on his crutches so that he could reach over to ruffle Blair's hair. "Believe me, I'm ready to go home!" 

"Well," Phil continued, walking beside Jim back to his room, "you know that you'll still be doing a lot of work at home. I'll come by your place the first day after your release to make a safety assessment and suggestions to help you get around. And you'll have a list of exercises that you'll be expected to do every day. Do you belong to a gym?" 

"As a matter of fact -" Jim said, nodding. 

"Good, because riding a stationary bike and swimming are two excellent exercises for your knee that will improve movement and flexibility, while not putting much pressure on the joint," Phil continued. "We'll have to ease you in to weight bearing exercise. It's going to be a while yet." 

"Is there anything he _shouldn't_ do?" Blair asked, helping to ease Jim down into a chair. 

"We'll go over everything at the home visit," Phil said, "but because Jim had an uncemented prosthesis, he shouldn't put any weight on the leg until he has a doctor's release or my permission." 

"What's the difference?" Blair asked. "I don't think Doctor Crowley or Doctor Powell mentioned anything about the knee joint itself." 

"Hmmm... well, that could be because of the crisis of Jim's zone-out when he first arrived here. There were more important issues to be considered at the time," Phil guessed. "Anyway, with a cemented prosthesis, the artificial kneecap is fixed in place with an epoxy-type glue. That sets right away, and the patient can start putting weight on the knee as soon as he can tolerate the level of pain. 

"An uncemented prosthesis has a fine wire mesh that allows the bone to grow through the holes, making the prosthesis a permanent part of the bone. It's a stronger and longer lasting method, but until the bone actually begins to grow around the mesh, it's inadvisable to put any weight on the knee." He turned to look directly at Jim. "It's fine to touch your toes to the floor, just don't put any weight on the knee until you're told it's safe to do so." 

"Do I get to go home this afternoon?" Jim asked. 

Phil shrugged. "Your release is up to Doctor Crowley, but I'll give you my blessing." He patted Jim on the shoulder and turned to leave. "See you tomorrow." 

"Bye, Phil," Blair called out to the departing therapist. "Well, that's good news!" he said, turning to Jim. "And one day earlier than predicted." 

"That's because I had such good nursing care," Jim said, clasping Blair's hand and smiling. 

Blair blushed and pulled his hand away. "Just wait until I get you home," he threatened. "You're going to beg me to go out and leave you alone." 

"You _do_ need to get back to the Training Facility and work with the guides," said Jim. "And I'm sure Joel would appreciate your help there, as well." 

"See? What did I tell you? You're trying to get rid of me already!" Blair chuckled. 

"Like hell I am," Jim growled, reaching up to yank Blair's collar, pulling the younger man's face close to his. "If I had my way, we wouldn't leave the bonding bed for a week!" He pressed his lips against Blair's and then abruptly let go of his shirt. "It's just that I know I'm doing better, and I know you have responsibilities to people other than just me. Once we get me settled and get the exercise routine down, you should go in to work a few hours a day just to keep things moving along." 

"We'll see," said Blair. "You're my first responsibility, always. I'll never abandon you while you need me." 

"Don't get so melodramatic, Sandburg," Jim teased. "You'll do what you have to do, and you know it." 

"I thought that's what we were fighting for," Blair continued the playful argument. "The right of guides to make up their own minds about things and not be bossed around by autocratic sentinels." 

"Who are you calling 'autocratic', you cheeky little goombah?" Jim reached out to grab Blair, but the guide danced out of reach just as the door opened and Doctor Crowley walked in. 

"Did I interrupt something?" Crowley asked, bringing a slight blush to the faces of both men. 

Jim shook his head. "Nothing important." 

"In that case, I have good news for you," the doctor began. "I passed Phil Millhouse on my way here, and he says that he's releasing you to home therapy." 

"Yeah, he told us that on his way out," Jim agreed. "Does that mean you're going to let me go?" 

"On one condition... well, make that two," said Crowley. "First, I want to see you get to the bathroom and actually use the facilities. Secondly, I need a last check on your testicular surgery. If everything looks in order, I'll sign the papers kicking your butt out of here." 

"That _is_ good news," Blair said, smiling. "We're going home, Jim!" 

"Not so fast," Crowley said, looking sternly at Jim and then glancing toward the bathroom. 

"Now?" Jim asked. He was still feeling a bit tired from his morning therapy session and he really didn't want to have to get up again. 

"I'm afraid so, if you want me to sign those release papers," said Crowley. 

Sighing, Jim fumbled for the crutches, nearly knocking them over. Blair grabbed them and handed them to his partner, poised to help Jim out of the chair. 

"I can do it myself," Jim grumbled, pushing up and balancing on his good leg before grabbing the crutches and maneuvering to the bathroom. Once there, he flipped up the lid on the commode and turned his head to look at the doctor. "I thought you wanted to watch," he said dryly. 

"I can see what I need to see from here," the doctor said, smiling. 

Jim grimaced and guided his still aching penis toward the bowl. Thank God the broken skin had healed and it no longer burned when he had to pee. The quiet tinkling of urine hitting water drifted out into the main room and the doctor nodded with satisfaction. 

"Very good. Now come on over here and get up on the bed." 

"Is this really necessary?" Jim asked. 

"I need to make certain that the incision has healed and that there's no infection," the doctor insisted, patting the mattress. 

Jim climbed onto the bed and lay on his back, throwing Blair a beseeching look. The guide came around to the opposite side of the bed from the doctor and began to rub Jim's arm. "Don't think about the discomfort, Sweetheart. Concentrate on me. Dial down your touch and use your sense of smell on me. Catalog my scent," Blair instructed. 

The doctor lifted Jim's gown and began his examination. "The swelling and discoloration of your penis has improved markedly since you were admitted," said Crowley. "However, considering the amount of damage, I think it could still be several weeks before you're able to attain a full erection. Just have patience. If you're still having problems in two months, contact me and we'll run more tests." He laid the organ aside and began his examination of Jim's scrotum. "The incision is healing nicely; no signs of infection. How does it feel?" The doctor palpated the side with the implant as he waited for Jim's reaction. 

"You said it before, Doc - dead meat," Jim growled. "That side feels heavy and numb." 

"But there's no pain?" Crowley probed. 

"Not on that side. The other side still hurts." Jim grimaced as the doctor moved his exam to the side with the injured testicle. "Yeah... that. Shit! Cut it out!" He squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. 

"Your right testicle was badly mangled," Crowley informed his patient, "but given time, I think it will make a full recovery. Your left was crushed beyond our ability to repair it." 

"He'll be all right," Blair said, still stroking Jim's arm with a soothing rhythm. "Besides, there's more to this sentinel-guide thing than just sex, you know." 

"I'm beginning to see that," Crowley said, smiling. "You are certainly an unusual pair. I've never met a guide before that was allowed to speak, much less one that takes over the way you have." 

"The times are changing," Blair said with a warm glance at Jim. "Soon, what we have will be the norm, not the exception." 

"I hope so," said Crowley, "because I like what I see. The guide taking an active role in the healing of his sentinel appears to make a measurable difference in recovery time. I might even submit that suggestion to my committee for possible future study." 

"Does that mean I can go?" Jim asked, interrupting the doctor's musings. 

"Oh, yes, by all means." Crowley grabbed his clipboard from the nightstand and began scribbling notes, finally signing off on the document. "No stair climbing until your PT clears you, and take it easy the rest of the day." 

"That's it?" Jim asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed with Blair's help. 

"That's it. You're free to go. I'll see to it that Phil stops by your home tomorrow morning for a safety inspection and to give you your exercise regimen for that knee." Doctor Crowley turned at the door. "Good luck." 

"Do I have anything to wear?" Jim asked, turning to Blair. "If I remember correctly, I didn't come in with any clothes." 

Blair went to the closet and pulled some boxers, a pair of sweatpants, and a T-shirt from a shelf. "I had Simon stop by the loft and pick these up for you. I figured you wouldn't want to have to wear a hospital gown all the way home." 

"Hospital gowns are a bit too well ventilated for this time of year," Jim said with a chuckle. "Thanks, Chief. You think of everything." 

Blair helped Jim into the loose clothing and settled him in the chair next to the bed. "You just wait here. I'll get the nurse." He returned a few minutes later with a nurse and a wheelchair. "Your chariot awaits." Between the nurse and the guide, they managed to help Jim up and into the wheelchair. Blair laid the crutches across Jim's lap. "There you go, all set." 

The nurse turned to Blair. "Are you driving Sentinel Ellison home?" When Blair nodded, she continued, "Why don't you go on ahead and bring the car around to the pickup area. We'll meet you there." 

"Okay, that sounds good. I can take some of this stuff with me, too." Blair grabbed an armload of plants and stuffed toys, while handing Jim a fistful of get-well cards and a large bouquet of helium-filled balloons. "Hey, man, I can't manage it all!" he complained when Jim gave him a scowl. "Meet you out front." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Home -" Jim's voice sounded wistful as Blair helped him through the door into the loft apartment. 

"Looks pretty good, doesn't it?" Blair agreed, guiding Jim over to the yellow lounge chair. "You just sit here while I go fetch the rest of the stuff from the car," he said. Jim nodded and looked around the room, drinking in the familiarity of their home. When Blair arrived back from his errand, he saw Jim bent over the fireplace, balancing on his crutches as he set a match to the kindling. "Jim! What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

Jim looked up from his task and smiled. "It was chilly in here. I thought I'd get a fire going - warm up the place." He studied Blair's disapproving scowl for a moment before responding. "I'm not an invalid. I can do things around the house." 

"No, you're not an invalid," Blair agreed, unloading his armful of potted plants on the coffee table. "But you just got out of the hospital. You need to take it easy for a day or two. Wait to hear what Phil has to say about what you should and shouldn't be doing." 

"I was just starting a little fire," Jim said, closing the door on the fireplace and returning to his seat. "What's the big deal?" 

"You might have lost your balance and fallen," Blair pointed out. "You could have re-injured your knee." 

"But I didn't," Jim argued. 

"But you could have," Blair shot back. He sank down onto the coffee table, sitting and facing his sentinel with a sigh. "I'm just happy to have you home, and I don't want to take any chances that you'll have to go back to the hospital right away," he admitted softly. 

Jim nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard remembering that I'm not up to doing everything I'm used to doing." His eyes tracked longingly to the staircase and the upstairs bedroom. 

"'Fraid not," Blair said, shaking his head. "I know it's not as comfortable, but we'll just have to use the futon in my old room until Phil says you can climb the stairs." 

"But I climbed a flight of stairs at the hospital," Jim complained, wanting nothing more than to sleep in his own bed. 

"That was to prove that you could," Blair explained. "It didn't mean that you _should_. Both Doctor Crowley and Phil said to stay away from stairs, so we're sleeping down here for now." 

"I suppose," Jim sighed. His stomach rumbled and he glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize it was getting that late. How about we phone in a pizza?" 

"Chinese would be healthier. The Golden Pavilion delivers." Blair picked up the phone and began dialing. "Dim sum? What else?" 

"How about some General Tso's Chicken and fried rice?" 

"Chow mein," Blair corrected, turning his attention to the phone and placing their order. 

* * *

In deference to Jim's injured knee, they ate dinner on the couch while watching a basketball game. 

"Want some more of the chicken before it's gone?" Jim asked, offering the take-out box to Blair. 

"Yeah, maybe just a bite," Blair said, plucking out a piece with his chopsticks. "I'm about to finish off the dim sum." He passed the box to Jim, who helped himself to a mouthful. "Need anything else?" he asked as they swallowed their last bites of dinner. 

"Nope. I'm good." Jim took the boxes and set them on the coffee table, then wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulders and pulled him close. "I'd just like to get comfortable and watch the rest of the game. After that, I think I'm ready for bed." 

"Probably not a bad idea," agreed Blair. "It _is_ your first day home." He snuggled down, resting his head in the hollow between Jim's neck and shoulder. 

"Sure thing, Darwin," Jim said softly as the first quiet snores from the exhausted guide reached his ears. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Not too bad," Phil said, finishing his safety inspection of the loft. "Everything you need is on the main floor." 

"Except my bed," Jim groused. 

"We're sleeping on the futon in my old room," Blair explained to the physical therapist. 

Phil nodded. "I can understand that you'd want to use your own bed, but that's a steep flight of stairs, and there's no railing on the outside edge," he explained. "Once you're just a little stronger, then maybe I can okay it. In the meantime, if you want anything from up there, make sure you ask Blair to get it for you. 

"Now, before we get started with the exercises, I want to address the pain and swelling in your knee." 

"My knee's fine," Jim interrupted. 

"For now," Phil agreed. "However, once you start the therapy, you're going to experience a bit more discomfort. The best thing to do is elevate the leg and ice the knee for about fifteen minutes, four times a day. If that isn't enough to keep the swelling down, wrapping tightly with an elastic bandage can help keep the fluid off the knee. If you begin to experience excessive swelling or pain, get down to the hospital right away. They'll give you an injection of an anti-inflammatory drug, and your doctor will likely prescribe pills to take afterward. 

"Now that we've finished with those cheerful instructions -" Phil walked back to toward the door and picked up a rolled mat, moving out to the center of the large, open room. Unfastening the straps that held the roll together, he let the mat unfurl on the floor. "Okay, this is going to be something I want you and Blair to work on every day," he began. "First off, let's get you down," he said to Jim. With Blair's help, they eased the sentinel down onto the mat. "You might want to put a chair on one side of Jim when you're doing this by yourself," Phil suggested. "He could support himself with it while you help lower him to the mat." 

"Okay," agreed Blair. "What next?" 

"Jim, I want you to lie back, with your head near the end of the mat... like that, yes; that's good. Knees bent... okay." Phil turned to Blair. "Now I want you to mirror Jim's position on this end of the mat." He pointed to the spot where he wanted the guide to sit. 

"Lie back," he instructed Blair. "Okay, now I want you both to lift your legs and put the soles of your feet together." Phil helped the two men get situated. "Blair, I think you might need to scoot a little closer to Jim." 

Blair pushed himself about six inches closer. "Okay... is this good?" 

"We'll see," Phil said. "The object of this exercise for Jim is flexion and extension of the knee joint. At first, I want Blair doing most of the work. Jim, all you need to do is make sure that your foot stays in contact with Blair's. 

"What I want you to do, Blair, is alternate flexing and straightening your legs, piston fashion, pushing against Jim's legs. If possible, when you straighten a leg, I want Jim's flexed knee to come as close to his chest as he can tolerate. When you flex, his leg will extend. It doesn't matter if Jim can't straighten his leg out completely. For that matter, it would be better at this time if he didn't. Okay, go ahead and try." 

Blair began the exercise, pushing against the light resistance of Jim's legs. "Whew, this is harder work than it looks!" 

Phil smiled. "Yeah, you'll both get a workout like this. I'd like to see it continued for ten minutes, twice a day. As Jim gets stronger, I want him doing more of the pushing, with you, Blair, offering a slight resistance to help build the strength in his joints. 

"This exercise is also good for the quadriceps, the large muscles in the thigh. For Jim's exercises to prove successful, those muscles must remain limber and strong." 

"Anything else?" Blair asked, his face turning red from the effort of the exercise. 

"As a matter of fact -" Phil said, with an evil gleam in his eye. "When you're finished with this exercise - you can stop now," he added, helping to lower Jim's feet to the floor, "you need to continue to work on range of motion." 

Blair scooted out of the way to make room for Phil on the mat. "Take Jim's left leg and hold it at the ankle with your right hand," he said, demonstrating. "Then, keeping the leg mostly straight, use your left hand to push it outward, toward the side. Just be careful not to put the pressure directly on the knee - just above the joint is best. This stretches the inner thigh." He demonstrated, earning a grimace from his patient. "That one can be a little painful if you haven't exercised in a while," he added. "Then pull the leg across the body, turning Jim slightly onto his right hip.... Bring the leg back, and repeat ten times in a slow, arcing motion. 

"By any chance, do you have a stationary bicycle?" Phil asked, as he continued to stretch Jim's leg. "Because if you don't, the hospital's physical therapy section has them to rent. It would be good if you had one here at home." 

"There's one down in the basement storage," Jim told Blair. "You could bring it up." 

"We have a stationary bike?" Blair asked, looking surprised. "I thought you did all your working out at the gym." 

"I used to have a bike up here," Jim explained. "But when I started going to the gym regularly, I decided to put it down in storage." 

"Great!" Phil said. "Get it out, dust it off, and ride it for fifteen to twenty minutes twice a day - no more, at first. You _can_ overdo the therapy," he cautioned. "I've seen a lot of patients, especially the sentinels, who think they can recover faster by doubling up on the exercise. I'm here to tell you, that if you don't allow your knee to rest between sessions, you're not going to get stronger, you're going to end up with a relapse." 

"I'll do my best to see to it that he doesn't overdo," Blair promised. 

"Good," said Phil. "That will be plenty for now. Eventually, I'd like to see you getting out and going swimming. Swimming is perfect exercise for a new knee joint - plenty of leg action, without the impact. I'll be stopping by a couple more times to see how you're doing, and then you can start coming into the hospital for outpatient therapy as well." 

"How long is this going to continue?" Jim asked, rubbing his sore knee. "I just got started at a new job, and I'd like to get back." 

"That's going to depend on how well you follow instructions," Phil told him. "If you try to do too much, too soon and end up with a relapse, it's going to take longer. What kind of work are you doing?" 

"It's mostly a desk job at the moment," Jim said. "I'm the new Warden at the Guide Training Facility. We have a lot of reorganizing to do there, and my desk is snowed under with paperwork." He turned to grin at Blair. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all - didn't you say that Joel was taking over while I was out?" 

"He's doing his best, but it's not the same without you there," said Blair. 

"That reminds me," Jim said, getting a twinkle in his eye. He turned to the physical therapist. "Is it absolutely necessary for Blair to be with me every minute of the day? He's been working at the Facility, too, and he really needs to get back before things revert to the chaos we found when we started." Blair shot his partner a disgusted look, but didn't have time to reply before Phil answered. 

"I don't see why that would be necessary, so long as you promise not to try and do too much while he's gone. I'd prefer for Blair to be here while you're exercising, even if it's just riding the bike. At first, you may need some help just getting on and off." Phil paused to make sure his words were getting through to the stubborn sentinel. "Otherwise, I don't see why he couldn't go in for a couple hours in the morning, and again in the afternoon." 

"I don't feel right leaving Jim alone right now," Blair protested. "What if he needs something from upstairs?" 

"Two hours, Blair," Jim said, his voice exasperated. "It'll go by so fast, you'll hardly notice. If I need something, I can wait." 

"What about lunch?" Blair continued his argument. 

"I can fix my own. I'm not an invalid," Jim reminded his guide. "Or, you can come home for lunch and our afternoon PT session, then go back and come home for dinner." 

Blair considered the idea and nodded. "Joel could probably use some help, and there's nobody there that knows how to train the guides properly. But I'm not going in until tomorrow, and that's final." 

"Okay, fine," said Jim. "In that case, you can go haul the bike up from the basement and grease the chain; make sure it's working like it should." 

"Need some help?" Phil offered. 

Blair shook his head. "We've taken enough of your time already. I can manage. Thanks." 

"If you're sure?" Phil paused, waiting to see Blair's reaction. 

"I'm sure," said Blair. "When will you come back again?" 

"Next week, same time?" 

"Sure, sounds good," said Jim. 

"All right, then. If you have any questions, or any problems arise in the exercise routine, give me a call." Phil waved good-bye as Blair slowly closed the door behind him. 

"Aren't you going to get the bike?" Jim asked, cocking his head to one side and grinning at his frustrated mate. 

"Fuck you," Blair muttered as he opened the door again. 

"After you get back, hotshot!" Jim's amused laughter followed Blair down the hall. 

* * *

"How old did you say this thing was?" Blair asked, looking up from his bike maintenance, a smudge of grease on one cheek. 

"Oh, about ten years, I guess," said Jim. "Like I said, once I got started at the gym, there didn't seem much point in keeping an eyesore that like in the loft." 

"And it's been sitting in storage all that time?" Jim nodded. "No wonder the thing is practically falling apart!" Blair wiped his hands on a rag before throwing it on the floor. "There, all done. Are you happy?" 

"Deliriously," Jim chuckled. "Now, what about that promise you made?" 

Blair cocked a suspicious eyebrow at his partner. "What promise?" 

"I distinctly heard you say 'fuck you' on your way out the door. Sounded like a promise to me." 

"Screw your sentinel hearing, dickhead. I just finished repairing your fucking bike, and you're fucking well going to ride the damn thing until your fucking ass is too sore to... to... fuck!" Blair sank down on the couch, his head in his hands, the past two weeks catching up to him in a rush. His shoulders shook and his breath hitched as the distinctive sound of sobs assaulted the sentinel's hearing. 

Jim slowly lowered himself down onto the couch next to his guide, wrapping an arm around the heaving shoulders. "I'm sorry, Blair. I don't mean to give you a hard time. I guess with everything I've been through, I sometimes forget the stress that it's causing for you. If there's anything I can do -" 

"No, no; you don't understand," said Blair, lifting his head and wiping his eyes. His shoulders shook harder until a loud guffaw burst from his throat. He wiped at his tearing eyes again before gripping his stomach and doubling over with laughter. "It's... it's..." Blair gasped, trying to catch his breath between bouts of hysteria. "...the bike... you... you..." As he sucked in more air, he began to hiccup. "Shit!" Blair tipped on his side, away from Jim, curling up on his cramping stomach muscles as the laughter continued to bubble out of him. "...you... fuck..." 

It was fully five minutes before Blair quieted, the laughter turning to chuckles, turning to an embarrassed giggle. "Sorry... sorry, Jim," he said, gasping in great draughts of air to his starving lungs. "It was just... the look on your face, man, it was priceless." 

"You had me scared shitless, you little twerp!" Jim said, pulling Blair up and gathering him into his arms. 

"I-I'm sorry," Blair repeated, giving his tear-swollen eyes one last swipe. "It's just that there's been so much going on... First, we had what could only be called an eventful first two weeks at our new jobs, and then you're kidnapped... hurt. I was so scared for you, Jim. You were so deep in that zone-out. I didn't know if I could guide you back." 

"I'll always follow where you lead, Sweetheart, no matter how far gone I am," Jim assured his partner. 

"Yeah, well, then there was your knee and your... your -" He waved in the general direction of Jim's groin. "God, Jim! I couldn't imagine - didn't want to imagine - what Abernathy had done to you! It's just been so hard.... All this adjusting, all the schedules, now the physical therapy -" 

"And everyone has been worrying about how I'm doing, and not thinking about you at all," Jim concluded. "For that matter, everyone expects you to take over, to be the strong one, but they're forgetting the most important thing about you - the thing that makes you what you are: your empathy. And because of that empathy, you've been hurting right along with me, but nobody's noticed." Blair nodded, resting his head on Jim's shoulder. The tears started to flow again, quietly tracking down Blair's cheeks. Jim ran his fingers through the tangled hair and brushed at the tiny rivulets with his thumb. "That's going to change, starting right now," said Jim. "From now on, we take care of each other." 

~oO0Oo~ 

A quiet afternoon and a good night's sleep did wonders for Blair's emotions. Finally back under control after the outburst that had acted like a safety valve for his sanity, the guide was ready to take up his duties once more. 

The quiet whir of the bicycle chain had been a constant background noise for the past fourteen and a half minutes. The timer went off, and Blair walked over to help Jim down and over to the yellow chair. He propped Jim's leg up on the mound of pillows he'd placed on a spare dining room chair to help elevate Jim's knee, and went to the freezer to get the ice pack. 

"Leave this on for fifteen minutes," Blair instructed. "Then stay put with your leg up for the rest of the morning. Do you need anything before I leave? Water, snacks?" He reached over and handed Jim the TV remote. "I'll come home for lunch, and we can do the floor exercises, okay?" 

"Blair, you don't have to do this," said Jim. "I was pushing you out the door, trying to make you fill in for both of us. I don't want you to feel pressured. Joel is handling things just fine." 

"But the guides aren't learning anything. They're working out, staying fit, but they aren't learning anything more about how to work with sentinels," Blair replied. "It's all right; I want to go." 

"C'mere," Jim commanded, pulling on Blair's hand. 

Blair leaned down to give his sentinel a good-bye kiss and found fingers twining in his hair, and an insistent tongue inside his mouth. He relaxed into the embrace, playing tonsil hockey for a full minute before finally pulling back. "You're not getting me back in bed until tonight," he scolded. 

"Just a little something to remember me by." 

"Like I could forget," said Blair, brushing his fingers across a stubbled cheek. "You need to shave. Wait - don't bother, just stay put. We'll deal with your five o'clock shadow at noon." 

"Hurry home." 

"Love you, Jim. See you at lunch." Blair hurried out of the apartment and down to his car before he could change his mind. The drive to the Facility was relatively smooth, as the morning traffic jam had dissipated almost an hour before. 

"Hi, Cynthia," Blair greeted the receptionist as he breezed through the lobby. 

"Blair! Hi! How is Warden Ellison?" Cynthia asked. "We've missed having you both here." 

"Jim is doing pretty well, considering," Blair stopped to tell the receptionist. "He's recovering from a total knee replacement, so it's going to be a couple months before he can come back to work." 

"Tell him that everyone here wishes him a speedy recovery." 

"Will do," said Blair. "Is Interim Warden Taggert in?" 

"Yes, sir. He's back in his office, trying to sort through the paperwork," Cynthia told him. "It's been rough for him, but I've tried to help as much as I can." 

"Thanks. I'm sure he appreciates it," said Blair. "I think I'll drop by his office first, before I check in with the guides." 

Blair headed back through the double doors on the far side of the lobby and walked down the corridor to Jim's office. He rapped his knuckles twice on the solid door before turning the knob and letting himself in. "Hey, Joel! How are you holding up?" 

"Blair!" Joel stood up and came around the desk to greet the guide. "Am I ever glad to see you!" 

"Any problems?" 

"Not really, but the training sentinels are getting a little bored, I think. The guides haven't advanced far enough to work with them yet," Joel explained. 

"That's why I'm here," said Blair. 

"How's Jim?" 

"Not too bad, considering." Blair pulled up a chair in front of the desk and sat down. Joel returned to his station behind a mound of forms. "He's feeling well enough to be cantankerous. The PT was over yesterday and taught us some exercises to work Jim's knee. And Jim had me bring the stationary bike up from the basement. He rode that this morning. I left him icing his knee. I promised I'd come home at noon to eat lunch with him and do more of the exercises." 

"So I only have you for about three hours?" Joel asked, looking disappointed. 

"I'll come back around 2:00 and stay until 5:00," Blair promised. "But I really do need to go home and check on Jim. If he doesn't think that someone is keeping an eye on him, he might try and do something stupid, like go upstairs or overextend his knee riding the bike." 

"Yeah, that sounds like Jim, all right," agreed Joel. "Well, okay then. I guess I'd better let you get busy doing whatever it is you do." 

"There's one thing you can do for us," Blair said. "And it's more interesting than paperwork -" 

Joel sat up and took notice of Blair's statement. "What would that be?" 

"Well, Jim and I have devised a new way to pair guides with sentinels. No more Guide Market with naked men and women on display." 

"Sounds good, what's the idea?" asked Joel. 

"We want to do a video interview with each guide - a separate tape for each one. We need to set up a special room - something homey and comfortable looking - for the taping to take place," Blair explained. "What we want is something along the lines of a video dating service. The guides will talk to the camera, telling their potential bondmates about their likes and dislikes, their hobbies and skills, that sort of thing. Then, when a sentinel comes in looking for a guide, he or she will be able to review the tapes, select the guides to interview, and set up appointments. The first meetings will be monitored by a third party in the room - most likely another guide. If there is a mutual agreement, a contract will be drawn up - something that can be broken by either party if certain criteria are met, such as dereliction of duty on the part of the guide, or any form of cruelty or physical abuse by the sentinel." 

"Think the sentinels will go for it?" 

"They aren't going to be given a choice. There are laws now protecting the rights of guides as free citizens in Cascade," said Blair. "Besides, it's a method that gives the best probability that a good personality match will be made. A stable sentinel-guide pair is more productive than a master/slave relationship." 

"So you want me to set up the room?" 

"And videotape the interviews, if you have time," said Blair. "Jim was going to do it, right before... Well, right before..." 

Joel nodded in understanding. "I know, kid; I know. Sure, I'd like to do that. It would be a nice change from budgets and personnel records." 

"Great!" Blair stood up and reached across the desk to shake Joel's hand. "Thanks a lot, Joel. Having you here means the world to Jim and me. We know you'll handle the job well in Jim's place." 

"I'll certainly give it my best," Joel promised. He smiled as he watched the ebullient guide bounce out of the room. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair headed straight for the classroom he had set up for the guides. He couldn't believe that a month had already passed since he and Jim had taken over the Facility. The atmosphere of the place had certainly changed with the removal of Abernathy and his gang of narrow-minded sentinels. The room was nearly empty. Only a handful of the men were there, along with Linda, who sat quietly reading an old research paper of Blair's - one he had published in an anthropology rag back before he had so abruptly become a guide. 

Linda looked up from her reading. "Blair!" A smile crept over her face that lit up the room. "It's good to have you back. How is Warden Ellison? We've been so worried. Interim Warden Taggert hasn't been able to tell us much." As she spoke, the others in the room gathered around to listen. 

"It was a tough couple of weeks," Blair admitted. "When we rescued Jim, he was in a deep zone; but he's doing much better now. He had knee surgery, and that will keep him away from here until after the first of the year, I'm afraid." 

"What about you? Are you back for good?" asked Callum. The older guide rested a hand on Blair's shoulder. "We've been worried about you, too." 

"Part time," Blair told them. "I still have to help Jim with his physical therapy and keep an eye on him. But I'll be in for a couple hours in the morning, and again in the afternoon." He paused and looked at the small group. "I never did tell you guys thank you for being there when Jim was kidnapped. Especially you, Linda." 

"I-I didn't do anything, really. I was so scared -" the young woman said. 

"You told us what was going on, and in time for us to rescue Jim. That's all that's important," Blair told her. "Thanks. Thank you all." 

"We're just glad Warden Ellison is okay," Mark added. "The changes since he came are nothing short of miraculous." 

"So what's going to happen next?" asked Gary. "We haven't done anything but spin our wheels here since Warden Ellison's abduction." 

"That's going to change starting now," said Blair. "For one, Joel - Warden Taggert - will start video interviewing all the guides for a sort of 'dating service' match-up with potential sentinel bondmates. We want to make certain that the pairs are compatible and will enjoy each other's company." 

"I have a wife and kids at home," Callum protested. "I'm not sure I _want_ to enjoy the company of a sentinel." 

"It's true - sentinels and guides must have a sexual component to their relationship to make the bond work; however, it can be done on a purely professional, business-like level, if you want to keep it that way," Blair explained. "Not every sentinel-guide couple becomes a _couple_ the way Jim and I have. It shouldn't be necessary to give up your family, so long as your wife understands the needs of the sentinel on the job." 

"Do we have to do this interview? Are we destined to become guides?" asked Callum. 

Blair shook his head. "Nope. No way. You're free to go home to your wife and family at midnight, January first. I hope you'll stay - we need trained guides - but no one will force you." 

"Are you going to start training us again?" Mark moved forward to ask. "Things have been mighty slow around here." 

"Where is everyone else? I need to get the guides rounded up before I leave at noon." Blair looked at the small group. "Can you help me get everyone back here?" 

"Sure thing," said Gary. "Some are in the exercise yard, others in the gym - I don't know for certain. We've been pretty scattered lately." 

"I'll help," Linda said, getting up and tucking the small anthropology journal in her pocket. "Come on, guys." 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the classroom was full once more. Blair gazed out over the eager faces, pleased to see a change for the better in the guides since he'd been gone. The family visits and outside contacts had boosted moral to new heights. 

Blair cleared his throat. "It's good to be back -" He waited through the chorus of welcomes before continuing. "Before we go any further, I need to make something clear. Warden Ellison and I have determined that the lowest 'E' rating for a strong sentinel-guide pairing is a five. Anyone below E5 will be released from the program in January." A hand shot up in the middle of the room. "Yes, David?" 

"What about those of us who are E3s and E4s who _want_ to work with sentinels?" 

"E3s and 4s might find some capacity with sentinels working in the private sector, or in jobs that don't impact the public safety," Blair explained. "But guides hoping to work with sentinels in any form of law enforcement or the military, will need to be rated E5 and above. 

"Do we have any E10s?" Blair looked around the room. "Please raise your hand if you're an E10." The room remained quiet. "E9?" One hand slowly went up. "Linda? You're an E9?" Blair asked, not totally surprised that the timid woman ranked so high. Upper level empaths were frequently introverts as a way to limit emotional contacts. "Very good." He smiled at Linda before moving on. "E8s?" Four hands went up. "How about E7s?" Another three. "E6?" Another pause with no hands raised. "All right, E5?" Almost half the room raised their hands. Blair nodded. "I'm not surprised. It's one of the most common 'E' ratings. Okay, good. 

"I want to make one thing clear," Blair continued. "I'm not going to discriminate in my training of you, just because you might have a lower rating. Everyone deserves an equal chance. At the end of the training period, before you begin the matching process, your empathy rating will be reevaluated. 

"I will need one apprentice, however." Blair looked around the room. "As you know, Warden Ellison still has considerable recovery time ahead of him, and I need to divide my attention between him and you. Linda?" 

The young woman's eyes widened and she pointed to herself. "Me?" 

"Yes, you," Blair said, grinning his support. "You have the highest empathy rating here outside of myself. What I'm going to need my apprentice to do requires an exceptional emotional sympathy, and that means an E9 or E10." 

"I-I can't." Linda shook her head. "Please -" 

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt," Blair told the worried guide. "You'll be able to do it. Besides, we're not going to start anything until this afternoon. But then -" He paused dramatically. "I think we'll begin working with the training sentinels." 

"Are you sure we're ready?" Mark asked. "We didn't get much training before you left." 

"There isn't much to tell short of actually working with the sentinels," said Blair. "You need to get a feel for working with their senses, helping to focus and strengthen them. That's not something you can do through lectures. It's something you have to experience." 

"But if we work with the sentinels, won't we be expected to... bond... with them?" Callum asked, wrinkling his nose. 

"That's where I'm going to need a volunteer," Blair answered with a twinkle in his eye. "Someone willing to risk having two people in his mind at once, in order to avoid the sexual union." 

"You know a way for a sentinel and guide to bond without sex?" Callum asked. "Sign me up!" 

Blair held up a hand to stem the oncoming tide of excited chatter. "I don't _know_ anything yet," he said. "But I have a theory I'd like to test out. If it works, then Linda is going to be a very busy young woman." 

Linda's eyes widened again, but this time she didn't protest. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"So, how did it go this morning?" Jim asked as Blair walked through the door, tossing his keys in the basket and hanging up his coat. 

"Not bad." Blair walked over to where Jim was still seated in the yellow chair, his left leg elevated by pillows. "Joel seems to have things under control. I asked him to start taping the guide interviews. That'll get him out from behind his desk for a while. I'm sure he'll appreciate that." 

"No doubt," Jim agreed. 

"So, are you ready to get to work?" Blair helped ease Jim's leg down from the pile of pillows before going to the corner where the exercise mat was stored. 

"Don't we get to eat first? I don't know about you, but I'm starved." Jim grinned impishly at his guide. "I can almost smell the Wonderburgers." 

"Sentinels!" Blair scoffed. "Can't keep a secret from them." He opened the door and reached out into the hall, bringing in the bag of burgers and fries he'd picked up for their lunch on the way home. "I wanted to surprise you." 

"So you were going to leave them out there to get cold while we did our workout?" Jim raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

"Noooo," Blair growled. "I said I wanted to surprise you." 

Jim gathered his crutches and walked over to where Blair stood, still holding the sack with their lunch. He transferred his right crutch to his left arm and used his free arm to wrap around his partner and pull him close. "Don't be mad at me," he begged. "You _did_ surprise me, you know. Just because I smelled the burgers doesn't mean I wasn't surprised." He pressed a kiss against Blair's cheek. "Come on, let's eat before they get cold." 

* * *

"Can we stop yet?" Jim asked as the brutal PT session continued. 

"Hey, I don't like this much, either," complained Blair. "I'm doing all the work here." He continued to piston his legs, bending and stretching Jim's injured knee. "We've got..." he turned to look at the timer. "...another three minutes." 

Jim groaned. "I never thought I'd see the day when I didn't enjoy a workout." He continued to grunt each time his new knee joint was flexed, sighing with exaggerated relief when the timer finally went off. 

Blair lowered their legs slowly, then rolled over and sat up. "Unfortunately, we're not done yet." 

"Are you planning to go back to work this afternoon?" asked Jim as Blair began the stretching exercises for the inner thigh muscles. 

"If I can get through with you here, yeah," said Blair. "I'm going to start the guides working with the training sentinels this afternoon. I have a theory I want to test." 

"Oh, and what's that, Einstein?" Jim asked. "Geez! Easy on the leg, would ya?" he hissed as Blair put gentle pressure on the limb. 

"Sorry," Blair apologized. "How's this?" he asked, easing up slightly. 

"Better. What's that theory of yours?" Jim repeated. 

"Well, I was thinking -" 

"That's dangerous," Jim snorted. 

Blair shot him a brief scowl before continuing. "The guides currently at the Facility have been abused by the training sentinels; some for upwards of a year or more." 

"Raped, you mean," Jim clarified as Blair continued to work with his leg. 

"Well, yeah," Blair agreed. "I'm sure they look at it that way. I know that I did. They aren't bound to a sentinel yet, so the sexual union feels more like a violation. What I'd like to try is a bonding of minds without the sex." 

"And how do you propose to do that?" asked Jim, sitting up and stretching a bit as the PT session finally ended. 

"I thought that maybe I could act like a conduit - let the sentinel and guide meet through me," said Blair. "I'm a strong enough empath that I can make a connection with their minds through a simple touch." 

"Sounds kind of dangerous," said Jim. He allowed Blair to help him up off the floor and over to the chair where he put his leg up again and submitted to another ice pack on his knee. 

"Not really. The connection will be superficial for me, and only enough for the sentinel and guide to experience the bond. An unbonded pair doesn't really _need_ the reinforcement, but the sentinels are so used to it that I don't think they'd be content without it." 

"They're not going to be content without the sex," Jim commented. 

"Let them go home and bond with their own guides. They don't need to have sex with my trainees!" Blair replied as he knelt next to the chair and brushed a hand over the soft fuzz of Jim's buzz cut. "You going to be okay if I go in again this afternoon?" 

Jim turned his head and smiled at his guide. "Do I have a choice?" 

Blair's eyes widened and he nodded. "Of course you do, always! I'll put your needs over that of the Facility any day, any time. Want me to stay home?" 

"Nah. I'm just yanking your chain," Jim said, reaching out to clasp Blair's neck and pull him forward for a kiss. "You go in this afternoon and do what you have to do. I'll be fine." 

"You sure? Because what I have planned can wait until tomorrow." Blair frowned as he studied his partner's face. 

"Go on. Get out of here," Jim told him, pushing Blair away with a playful shove. "What would you like for dinner?" 

"We could order in a pizza," Blair suggested, standing and heading for the door. He gathered his coat and keys, pausing while he waited for Jim's opinion. 

"I'll make spaghetti," said Jim. "We already ate take-out once today." 

"You shouldn't be on your feet so much," protested Blair, setting his keys back down and starting to walk back toward Jim. 

"Just hold it right there," said Jim, extending his arm, palm forward. "That's what the crutches are for. I'm not going to be putting any weight on my knee, and I need to get up, move around. You go to work and leave the dinner planning to me." 

"You're sure?" Blair paused uncertainly. "I don't want you overextending yourself." 

"I'll be fine. Now get going," Jim ordered, waving Blair off. 

Reluctantly, Blair retreated to the door. "You'll call me if you need anything?" 

"Go already!" Jim sighed, smiling once the door finally closed on his overprotective guide. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"All right," said Blair, rubbing his hands together as he stood in front of the assembled guides. "This afternoon, I want all the E7s, 8s, and 9s to work with sentinels. The E5s will have an opportunity on another day. Everyone with a rating of E7 and up, please follow me." Blair led the way out of the classroom and through the gymnasium to the outdoor recreation area. The four remaining training sentinels at the Facility waited near the track. 

"Linda, as the strongest empath in training, I'd like for you to work with Kenneth." Blair paired three of the remaining E8s with the other sentinels, leaving four guides to wait their turn. "Great. Now, we have a rare, lovely day for November," he began, "so I'd like you to try stretching your senses as much as possible. We're outdoors, enjoy the sights, the scents, the sounds." 

"W-What are we supposed to do?" Linda asked timidly. "I mean, how...?" 

"Take hold of your sentinel's arm, better yet, touch bare skin if you can - hold a hand," Blair instructed. "And then, guides, lower your barriers and allow yourselves to open to your sentinel; merge your mind with theirs; see with their eyes, hear with their ears." 

"Oh... wow!" A smile crept over Linda's face as she stared upward at the clear blue of the sky. 

"What do you see?" Blair asked, following her gaze, but seeing no more than a faint haze on the horizon. 

"Geese. I can see and hear the geese migrating south. They're beautiful!" Linda sighed. 

Kenneth grinned and nodded at Blair, acknowledging the guide's words. "She's right. There's a huge flock a few miles away," he confirmed, pointing in the direction of the birds. The other sentinel-guide pairs turned to look, the guides standing slack-jawed with awe at the sight. 

"That was incredible!" Linda said, focusing back on Blair. "Is this what it's like to work with a sentinel? To see and hear with their senses?" 

"To experience all of their senses, yes," Blair affirmed. "You also act like a magnifying glass, allowing the sentinels to extend their senses further than they could without your help. What you just experienced was a combination of your Talents." 

"Oh! I want to do more!" Linda said, excitedly. "Can we go to Holden Park? There's so much there to see, hear, and smell." She got a wistful look on her face. 

"I think we'd better confine our practice to the yard for today," Blair said. "We still have the problem of dealing with the bonding after the session, and I don't want to be caught out in the open if things don't go the way I have planned." 

At the Training Guide's reminder of the bond, Linda paled. "I-I forgot -" 

"Look, don't worry," Blair assured her. "It's going to be fine. Just spend a little more time working with your sentinel." 

After a half hour, Blair called a halt to the practice. "It's time to give the other guides an opportunity," he said. "But first, we have to resolve this session for the sentinels. Pairs, please follow me inside." 

Blair led the way into a small training room off the gym. "I'm going to start with Linda and Ken, as the strongest pairing," he began. Blair pulled out chairs on opposite sides of a small table and indicated that the sentinel and guide sit; then he took a seat between them. Looking around the room, he addressed all four pairs. "In the past, after a training session, sentinels would bond with the guides in the traditional manner. For an unmatched guide, this has always been nothing more than a violation of their bodies and their minds. Until a guide is permanently paired with a sentinel, that guide should not have to submit to what amounts to a rape of their bodies in order to access their minds. I want to try something new." Blair turned his attention on Linda and Ken. 

"I'm going to act as your connection," said Blair, reaching out to grasp an arm of both sentinel and guide. "When we're ready to start, I'm going to ask the other pairs to leave the room and wait outside. I'm going to have to lower my barriers completely, leaving me open and vulnerable to outside conflict. Linda, Ken, I want you both to open your minds to me, lower your own shields as you would in a bond. Meet through me and complete your union." 

"Just what kind of shit is this?" Marcus, one of the other sentinels asked. "It would be so much easier to just fuck this sweet ass and be done with it." 

"We don't do things that way anymore," Blair said, swallowing the sudden surge of anger at the comment. "In case you haven't heard, reform is sweeping through our little community, and this is a part of it. You have a guide of your own waiting at home. Just remember - if you mistreat him, he's free to leave you in January. Now, if you don't mind, we're going to start." 

Blair waited until the other pairs left the room, and then turned back to Ken and Linda. "Linda, I want you to pay particular attention to what we do and how we do it," he said. "I want you to learn to be the conduit." 

"Me?" The guide's voice came out as a frightened squeak. She tried to pull her arm away, but Blair gripped her firmly. 

"Yes, you. As the only E9 in training, you're the best choice to act as my assistant. I can't be here all the time, and yet the training must continue." 

"But I -" 

"Just relax," Blair said calmly. "Take a deep breath and blow it out... Good. Now, let's try this first, okay? There's no reason to get ahead of ourselves here." He waited for the guide to calm down a bit before continuing. "All right, I'm lowering my shields -" Closing his eyes, Blair exhaled and relaxed, leaving himself open to the sentinel and guide he was attempting to channel. Tentatively, he felt the two minds enter his and meet. He closed himself off from the intimacy of their connection, keeping only the most tenuous hold on them both. 

"Blair?" 

Blair felt a touch, someone rubbing his arm, and he opened his eyes. "Ken?" 

"It almost looked like you zoned," Ken commented. "You okay?" 

"I, um... yeah," Blair said, slowly coming back into his own mind. "The bond?" 

"It's good," Linda replied, smiling. "It worked, Blair. Are you sure you're okay?" 

Blair took a deep breath. "Yeah. I guess it took a little more out of me than I expected, but I'm fine. Really." 

"May I try?" 

The question from the shy guide surprised Blair. "Now? We still have three pairs to go, and then the sentinels need to work with the other guides." 

"Let me try," Linda insisted. "If I can do it, then we can process the pairs twice as fast." 

"Will you allow me to stay in the room?" Blair asked. "You'll be leaving yourself particularly vulnerable, and I don't want to risk your sanity." 

"Do you think this could really present a risk?" Linda asked softly. "Because I don't want to lose what I already have - what I experienced today." 

"I don't think there's much possibility of a problem," Blair told her. "But I don't like taking chances." 

"I'll try," Linda said, her voice firming up. 

"All right," Blair agreed. "Ken, would you please send in Gary and Pete? I think they'd be a compatible pair to start out with. I'll take Marcus and David. I have a feeling that Marc is going to be a problem." 

Gary, and his training sentinel, Peter, entered the room and took their seats at the table. As she had watched Blair do, Linda sat between the two men and lightly clasped their arms. Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly, closing her eyes in concentration. "All right. I'm lowering my shields now," she told them. "Open yourselves to each other through me." 

Blair stood back and watched silently as the trio merged minds. He smiled when they finally parted, all three appearing content and satisfied. 

"I did it! It worked!" Linda said, beaming a smile at her mentor. "This is fantastic! Too bad we can't bond like this all the time." 

Blair stepped up and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Linda. When the right sentinel comes along, you'll enjoy the traditional bond. Trust me." 

"Warden Ellison loves you, doesn't he?" Linda asked. "I can see it in the way he looks at you whenever you're together." 

"And I love him," Blair confirmed. "It's what we want for all sentinel and guide pairs - to have a true partnership; whether that means friendship or love doesn't matter. What matters is mutual respect and caring." 

Linda nodded. "Would you like for me to supervise your session with Marcus and David?" she asked after taking another deep breath. 

"I think I can handle them," answered Blair. "Why don't you take Dan and Phillip?" 

Linda nodded, and together they finished processing the waiting sentinels and guides. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"So, how did it go this afternoon?" Jim asked over their homemade spaghetti dinner. 

Blair washed down his food with a sip of wine and looked past the glowing candles to his bondmate. "You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble," he insisted. "You're supposed to be staying off that knee." 

"I'd say you've earned a home cooked dinner," said Jim. "Besides, I wasn't on my feet all that much. I have to get up and move around a little, you know. Now, tell me about your afternoon." 

"Not much to tell," Blair said around another mouthful of spaghetti. "My theory for consummating the bond through a third party empath seems to work - at least well enough for training." 

"That's great!" said Jim, beaming a smile at his lover. "What did the sentinels think of the idea?" 

"What do you think?" Blair's voice held a hint of sarcasm. "Kenneth was okay with the idea, but he's always been a progressive thinker, anyway. The others... resisted to varying degrees. Marcus was the worst. He just wanted his fuck and be done with it." 

"Why am I not surprised?" Jim shook his head. "I always did have Marcus pegged as a possible troublemaker. Speaking of which... Simon called today. The other four sentinels involved with my kidnapping have pled guilty." 

"You're kidding!" Blair sat up straighter, putting down his fork to stare at Jim. 

Jim shook his head. "Apparently, the DA offered them a deal - minimum sentencing for their cooperation. Each one separately identified Abernathy as the mastermind and leader of the group." 

"But Abernathy was killed in jail," Blair reminded Jim. "He never got a chance to make a statement." 

"Simon and the DA were convinced that Abernathy was the brains behind the conspiracy, so they were willing to cut a deal in order to have their suspicions confirmed," Jim explained. "The others pled guilty to first degree assault and kidnapping charges, carrying a minimum sentence of eight years and four years, three months respectively, to run concurrently. Simon said they'd be eligible for parole in five years." 

"Are you okay with that?" asked Blair, lowering his barriers to read his partner's emotional state. 

"Yeah," Jim sighed. "It's a fair deal. Besides, by the time they get out, the reform will be so entrenched that they won't have any choice but to go along." 

"In five years, our ideas could be applied statewide," Blair agreed, satisfied that Jim was comfortable with the sentences his tormentors had received. 

"Pretty much anything could happen," Jim concurred. "So, I guess, life goes on." He concentrated on his meal for a few minutes before remembering their interrupted conversation. "You were telling me about Marcus," he said, looking up from his plate. "I take it you made him toe the company line?" A wicked little grin curved the corners of Jim's lips. He knew how commanding his guide could be when the situation called for it. 

"I explained to him how things were going to work from now on," Blair confirmed. "He cooperated. But, hey! The best part...? Linda sat in as a channel and was able to do nearly as well as I could. With a little more training, I think she'll make as good a stand-in for me as Joel has been for you." 

"How's Joel holding up?" 

"He got the interviews set and a list of suggested questions and topics for the guides to cover. He's going to start taping tomorrow, I think." Blair smiled, excitement lighting up his eyes. "It won't be long now before sentinels looking for guides will be able pick a few from the tapes to interview in person and ultimately find their match." 

"A much more civilized way for going about things," agreed Jim. "No more chilly morning marketplaces." 

"God, you said it!" Blair nodded his agreement, his mind flashing back to the first marketplace dawn he had experienced, and the humiliation that had gone hand-in-hand with the frosty temperature. 

Jim noted that Blair had stopped eating. "Are you finished?" 

"Sorry, Jim. I guess I'm just a little tired. I don't seem to have much of an appetite," Blair confessed. 

"You don't need to apologize," said Jim, gathering his crutches and standing. He circled the table and pulled out Blair's chair, offering his guide a hand. "You've been taking care of me and the Facility... it's about time someone took care of you." He steered Blair toward their current bedroom, pushing his mate down on the futon and lowering himself to sit on the thin mattress. "Let me warm you up." He slowly began to disrobe his lover, lowering Blair onto the bed. As his fingers brushed across the puckered nipples, a flush of arousal warmed the chilly guide and a sigh of contentment whispered from Blair's lips.... 

_Six weeks later:_

Phil nodded his approval as Jim worked his way through his daily exercise routine. When the sentinel finally finished, the physical therapist approached. "You've made a lot of improvement over the past month and a half. Are you ready to get rid of your crutches?" 

"Are you kidding?" asked Jim, taking the crutches and shoving them toward Phil. "It's not soon enough for me." 

"Whoa, there," said Phil, pressing the crutches back into Jim's hands. "You still need some support for your knee, like a cane or walking stick. I don't want you putting your full weight on that joint quite yet." 

"There you go, Jim! Now I know what to get you for Christmas. I've seen some really ornate walking sticks - some were even carved in Peru!" Blair bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement. 

"That would be perfect," Phil agreed. "In the meantime, you need to keep the crutches, I'm afraid." 

"Does this mean I can go back to work soon?" Jim pinned the physical therapist with a sharp look. "We were just getting started when this all happened, and I need to get back." 

"I'd rather you wait until the first of the year," Phil cautioned. "Give yourself a little more time to get used to walking, and to using a cane instead of the crutches. It's only a couple more weeks. Of course, when you _do_ go back, I expect you to confine yourself mainly to deskwork for the first few weeks. No need to add the stress of your knee to the stress of the job." 

"So, is this it for the outpatient visits?" Blair asked. 

Phil nodded. "Yup. Just continue to ride the bike and do your range of motion exercises. You can begin to put more and more weight on the leg so long as you can tolerate the pain. Just don't try to go macho and do it all at once." 

Blair pursed his lips and then broke into a grin. "I'll see to it that he doesn't." 

"All right then," said Phil. He reached out a hand to Jim. "It was good working with you. If you have any problems or questions, you know who to call." 

"Thank you, Phil," Jim said, shaking the man's hand. "I know I can be a little hard to work with sometimes..." 

" _Sometimes_?" Blair nearly choked on his laughter. "Since when is it only sometimes?" 

Jim started to turn to playfully swat at his mate, but Phil tightened his grip on Jim's hand. "You were less trouble than some of my patients. Good luck, Jim." As he turned to go, he grinned at Blair. "Good luck to you, too, Blair. You'll need it." 

As the door closed behind Phil, Jim advanced on his guide. "He's right, you know," he said to Blair. "You're going to need it." 

Blair held up his hands as he backed up, retreating from the steady advance of the stalking sentinel. "Whatever I said, I didn't mean it." He tried to keep a smile on his face, but it was faltering under Jim's steady gaze. "Oh, come on, man. You know I was just teasing." Blair's back came in contact with the bedroom door. Jim reached him with a couple quick, swinging strides on his crutches and braced his arms against the doorframe, one to either side of Blair's head. "I'm sorr -" His words were cut off by a forceful kiss. 

Jim reached down, twisting the doorknob. As the door swung open, the couple stumbled into the small room. Jim's crutches crashed to the floor as they fell onto the bed, Jim on top. "You've become pretty cheeky, Guide. You need to learn a little humility." 

As Jim began to tear at his clothes, Blair struggled, putting up only a token resistance. "I submit, Sentinel. I submit!" he gasped as Jim's mouth came down on his chest, licking and suckling at his nipples. "I'm yours; only yours, my Sentinel!" It was a game as old as their relationship, and one that Blair enjoyed, knowing as he did that Jim respected and cherished him. 

"On your hands and knees, Guide!" Jim ordered, helping to turn Blair over and pull him up into position. Unable to kneel behind his mate, Jim turned Blair so that he could put his feet on the floor, leaning heavily on his right leg. Pressing his groin against the soft flesh of Blair's ass, he began to grind. Blair thrust his hips backward, willing to accept his mate and consummate their bond. Jim thrust at the exposed anus until both men were sweating and panting with the effort. Finally, he collapsed on top of Blair and rolled them both to their sides. 

"Jim?" Blair turned in his lover's arms, reaching up to stroke away the lines of frustrated tension. 

"I should be able to do this by now," Jim ground out from between clenched teeth. 

"It's all right," Blair soothed. "It'll come with time. The doctor said it could take weeks." 

"It's _been_ weeks!" Jim sighed, his face softening. "Maybe I'll never... never -" 

"You _will_. Trust me, you will." Blair leaned in to press a kiss against his mate's pouting lips, but Jim didn't return the gesture. 

"Abernathy crushed one of my testicles," Jim reminded his lover. "Maybe what he did to my cock permanently damaged it." 

"And maybe we just haven't tried hard enough," Blair suggested, letting his hand drift down between Jim's legs to fondle the uncooperative organ. "I didn't want to risk hurting you, so I never really made an effort before." He slid down Jim's body until he was kneeling on the floor between his lover's legs. Opening his mouth, he took in the limp cock, caressing it with his tongue, applying a gentle suction to the glans. His lips brushed its length, his tongue seeking out every ridge and valley in the sensitive flesh. 

Blair fumbled, briefly, for the lube on the nightstand, squeezing some onto his fingers as he continued his attentions to the bruised organ. He had Jim's entire penis in his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue, making it slippery with his saliva. As he continued to suck, he eased his fingers inside Jim's opening, reaching for the small mound of his prostate, stroking with a gentle pressure against the gland. 

Above him, Jim arched his back and moaned his pleasure. Blair continued to lick and suck the unresponsive cock as he put more pressure against sensitive nub. He felt a twitch, and a slow filling in his mouth. In his excitement, he sucked harder, urging the abused penis to swell. 

Jim began thrusting his hips, ramming his half-full cock into Blair's throat. Blair stopped sucking and relaxed, allowing Jim to do the work while he continued the gentle finger-fuck. Jim's fists balled in the sheets and his back arched as his hips pistoned, his frenzy growing as Blair continued to encourage his release. 

Suddenly, the thrusting stopped and Jim lowered his hips to the bed, pulling his cock from Blair's mouth. 

"Jim?" Blair looked up at the exhausted man. Giving one last glance at the semi-erect cock, he crawled back up onto the bed. "That was good, man!" He reached down to continue stroking the organ. "We made progress. You're going to be able to do this, you just need to give it a little more time." 

"I've given it over six weeks," Jim complained. "And this is the best I can get?" He waved a hand toward his cock. "What if I can never fuck you again? God, Blair, I miss being inside you." 

Blair gathered his lover into his arms. "I miss you, too. I miss feeling you inside me, feeling the fullness, the connection, the love. But you're getting there, Jim. You have to believe; you have to have hope." 

"But, what if...?" 

"So what?" Blair interrupted. "So what 'what if'? If you can't, we'll deal. There are other ways of making love, other ways of feeling fulfilled. And it's not like we can no longer bond. We'll always be sentinel and guide." He stopped to press a kiss against Jim's lips. "We've been concentrating so hard lately on your knee, getting that well, getting you walking again, that we've let other things slip by us. That's going to change. You'll see. I'll never stop loving you." 

Jim pulled Blair hard against his chest, his guide's words stirring something primal in the sentinel. "Mine!" he growled, claiming Blair with a searing kiss. His hands tangled in the loose curls, his legs twined around his lover's body, holding him tight as he mapped the bare flesh with his mouth. 

"Yours." The word was carried on a soft sigh of breath as Blair gave himself over to his bondmate. 

_Ten days later: Christmas Day -_

Jim awoke before dawn to the soft sounds of muttering from downstairs and the crinkle of paper. He groaned and rolled over, peeking through the open railing of the loft bedroom to the floor below. Blair had snuck downstairs to sit beside the lighted tree they had gotten the week before and check out the packages beneath it. Tiny flickers of red, green, gold, and blue danced across the pale skin of Blair's naked body and reflected in the sheen of his hair. Jim felt a stirring of arousal at the sight. 

Pushing down the urge to stay in bed, Jim arose and wrapped himself in his robe before grabbing his crutches and making his way slowly down the stairs. "How come you're up so early?" he asked, carefully lowering himself to the floor. 

"It's Christmas!" Blair said, as though that was explanation enough. 

"I thought you were Jewish," Jim replied dryly, secretly amused at the open, child-like delight on his lover's face. 

"Well, yeah, by heritage," Blair said, squeezing a soft, colorfully wrapped package with his name on the tag. "But Naomi celebrated all holidays with equal enthusiasm. Besides, as an anthropologist, I came to appreciate the many different ways of acknowledging this time of year. But Christmas was always my favorite." He reached under the tree and handed Jim a long, thin package. 

Jim hefted the gift, admiring the wrapping as he grinned. "I wonder what this could be?" he teased. 

"Open it!" Blair urged, eager to see Jim's reaction. 

Jim began to peel away the layers of paper, exposing the dark wood of an ornately carved walking stick. The head of the cane was a panther's head, its mouth open with teeth bared and ready to strike. A stylized body made up the upper half of the cane, with the big cat's tail twining through delicately carved vines and leaves lower down. "This is beautiful, Blair," Jim said, his voice hushed with awe. "Thank you." 

"I had to hunt all over town," Blair explained. "Nothing seemed quite right, until I saw this - it was carved by a Huachipaeri tribe member. Didn't you tell me that the Huachipaeri were known to the Chopec?" 

"Yeah, they were neighboring tribes," said Jim, his fingers still tracing the intricate carvings. 

"The guy who sold it to me said that the tribe worshiped the jaguar and that this cane was a powerful totem. I knew as soon as I saw it, that you had to have it." 

"I don't know what to say. This is so beautiful -" 

"Just say you like it. That's good enough for me," said Blair, beaming a smile at his lover. 

"Like it? I _love_ it, Sweetheart. It's perfect." Jim leaned forward and kissed Blair, then picked up the forgotten package in Blair's lap and handed it to him. "I hope you like this half as much as I like what you got for me." 

Blair tore into the colorful wrap, exposing the soft knit of a sweater. He pulled it over his head, and then stroked his hands down his chest, admiring the feel of the fabric. 

"It's a wool-angora blend," Jim explained. "Both soft and warm." 

"It's gorgeous!" Blair continued to savor his gift, noting how the honey-brown yarn seemed to shift with subtle highlights of blue. "Thank you. I love it!" 

"Do you have any idea what seeing you wear that sweater and nothing else does to me?" Jim asked, leering at the younger man. 

Blair came up on his knees, leaning over to rest his hands on Jim's shoulders, his cock peeking out from beneath the bottom edge of the sweater. "No, what?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

"This!" Jim reached out and pulled Blair against him, stretching out to lie under the tree. 

"Oh, my -" Blair breathed, feeling the hard column of flesh beneath the thin material of Jim's robe. "Is that what I think it is?" 

"Merry Christmas!" said Jim, true laughter in his voice for the first time in weeks. 

"God, Jim!" Blair pulled out of his lover's grasp and sat up, knocking some ornaments from the tree in his eagerness. Hands suddenly clumsy with need untied the belt and spread the robe open to reveal the thick column of Jim's erect cock. "This is the best present ever!" He reached out to let his fingers feather down the length of the shaft, then back to the glans to spread the pearl of pre-come over the swollen head. "I knew you could; I knew you could -" 

"How about you help an old man up, and we'll go upstairs and try it out," Jim suggested, rolling out from under the tree and grabbing his new walking stick. 

Blair sprang up, grabbing Jim's outstretched hand and helping him to his feet. They carefully made their way back up to the bedroom. 

Blair crawled onto the large bed, still wearing his Christmas sweater, while Jim shed his robe and climbed in beside him. Their foreplay was brief and rough - bruising kisses and biting, marking each other in a primal and ritualistic way. Blair offered his body and Jim entered forcefully, his need fueled by months of abstention. 

*welcome home, my sentinel / I claim you again as my guide, my lover, my soul / I give myself to you willingly, Jim; always and forever / and I in turn give myself to you, Blair; as your protector, your lover, your soul / our bond is always sweeter like this :::mental sigh::: I love you / and I you, my guide* 

The bond flared brightly for Blair with the consummation of their union; his body and mind filled by the one for whom he had pledged his very life. He didn't wake again until the sun was high in the sky. 

* * *

"I was beginning to wonder what happened to you," Jim greeted his bed-rumpled partner as Blair finally made his way down the stairs a little past noon. 

"Does the phrase 'fucked my brains out' mean anything to you?" Blair muttered, sitting down at the table in front of the plate of food Jim had prepared for his lunch. 

"It's good to know the old soldier still has it in him," said Jim, chuckling as he sat opposite Blair at the table. 

"When did you know...?" Blair asked. "I mean, how did you...? When...? 

"When I saw you sitting naked under the tree this morning," Jim answered the half-formed thought. "I swore I'd never seen anything so breathtaking in my life. I felt the stirring of arousal then, and it was only magnified when I came downstairs and sat near you. Your scent, the sight of you, the sound of you - the excited beat of your heart - it was like seeing you for the very first time; wanting you, needing you... desiring you." 

"Huh!" Blair grunted in surprise. "If I had known that, I'd've paraded naked in your presence more often." He wiggled his eyebrows at his lover. "I don't suppose you'd be up for another round after lunch?" 

"Don't press your luck, Darwin," Jim growled. "I'm not sure you could handle me twice in one day." 

Blair wiggled his fingers in a 'come and get me' gesture. "Bring it on, tough guy!" He scooted his chair back and rose, heading toward the stairs to the bedroom. 

Jim casually finished his meal before making his slow way back up the stairs and nailing his cocky guide to the mattress for the second time that day. 

~oO0Oo~ 

The gymnasium at the Guide Training Facility had been turned from a dormitory into a festive ballroom. Joel had managed to procure a mirrored ball for the ceiling and colored lights to throw rainbow shards of glitter into the gathered crowd. Crepe paper streamers hung from the rafters and there was a huge net filled with silver and gold balloons set to dump on the partygoers at midnight. A live band played in one corner, while a buffet lined another wall. In one corner, mounted high enough that everyone could see, was a TV set to the Times Square countdown to the New Year. 

"Good evening, Mayor Whitaker, I'm glad you could make it to our little party." 

"Jim Ellison!" Merri smiled broadly at the sight of the Warden. "You're looking quite well. I'm sorry I haven't been by to visit since the hospital." 

"We've all been pretty busy," Jim agreed, accepting her apology. "I'm looking forward to getting back to work now that it's almost the New Year." 

"What an absolutely gorgeous walking stick you have!" Merri commented, stooping to get a better look. 

Jim handed it to her. "Blair got me that for Christmas. It was hand carved in Peru by a tribe that lives very near to the one that took me in when I was stranded there nearly seven years ago. The panther is my spirit guide." 

"Yeah, the man who sold it to me said it was a very powerful totem, filled with strong magic," added Blair. 

"The perfect symbol for a strong leader," the mayor commented, handing it back to its owner. "I've been talking with the sentinels and guides here, and they're all very pleased with the way things are shaping up. I hear that a few of the guides have already been paired with suitable sentinels." 

"Our dating service approach seems to be working very well," Blair agreed. "Even the sentinels can't argue; especially when they find a willing guide who shares their interests and compliments their personality." 

"Joel, my man!" Jim greeted the Interim Warden as he strolled in their direction. "Are you glad to be giving this all up for your cushy job back at the PD?" 

Joel chuckled. "Simon has been hanging all over me this evening, asking when I'd be coming back. I told him that was up to you." 

"So, just when _are_ you going to get your lazy ass back to work and let me have my detective back?" Simon asked, approaching the small group. 

Jim glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Oh, say in about three minutes. That soon enough for you?" 

Simon chuckled. "It's good to see you up and around, Jim. How's the knee?" 

"Much better," Jim replied. "I can get around with just the walking stick now, although my physical therapist is stressing that I need to confine myself to deskwork as much as possible." 

"And how's the... other?" Simon cocked an eyebrow at his friend. 

Blair stepped in and wrapped an arm around Jim's waist. " _Much_ better, thank you for asking." 

"Jim! Blair!" Linda came hurrying over, towing a young man about her age. "I'm so glad you made it tonight! I want you to meet Aaron - my new sentinel." She waved her left hand under Blair's nose where he couldn't help but see the glitter of diamonds and gold. "He proposed to me not five minutes ago!" 

"Congratulations!" Blair reached out to shake the sentinel's hand. "You've got yourself the best of the best there. You'd better treat her right, or you'll have me to answer to." 

"Don't worry, Doctor Sandburg," said Aaron. "I couldn't believe my luck when I found her." 

"Ten... nine... eight..." The noise of the crowd distracted them from further conversation as everyone turned to watch the slow drop of the ball in Times Square. "Five... four... three..." A waiter came around and everyone snagged a flute of champagne from the tray. "Two... one... Happy New Year!" The band kicked off the fledgling new year with their rendition of _Auld Lang Syne_ while Jim, Blair, the mayor, and the others in their small group clinked their glasses and downed the champagne in honor of the New Year and of new lives for all the assembled guides. 

Blair smiled warmly at Jim. "You started all this over a year ago, when you brought me home, clothed me, handed me my emancipation papers, and gave me back my life. Now, the blessing that is my reality has become the destiny for all the guides in Cascade." 

"And this is only the beginning," said Mayor Whitaker. "I got a call from the Governor just yesterday, saying that he's drafting a bill to free all the guides in the state of Washington. He's confident he has the votes to push it through." 

"That's fantastic!" Blair said, his effusive enthusiasm infecting the crowd as the word began to spread. "Did you hear that?" he shouted over the noise of the party. "We started a revolution!" 

In the resulting roar from the assembled crowd, guides around the room were suddenly sheltering their sentinels, helping to guide the dials down to a tolerable level. 

"You know, Jim," Blair said after pulling his sentinel to a more secluded corner of the crowded room, "we've won. The old-school sentinels like Brad Abernathy are a dying breed, and they know it. Abernathy did his worst, yet now he's dead and you're here, leading us all into a new era." 

"There you go, getting melodramatic again," said Jim, ruffling his guide's hair as he looked out over the room of celebrating sentinels and guides. "Then again, maybe you're right." 

"Of course, I am," Blair said confidently. He tugged on Jim's lapels, pulling the sentinel to him for a passionate kiss. 

*after all, we all know who truly holds the power in a sentinel-guide pairing / I submit, my guide; I submit / mine, my sentinel; forever* 

**THE END**

* * *

End 

Moira's Destiny by Natalie L: nat1228@comcast.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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